Cracked
by xLevitate
Summary: Part 3 of "Shattered" ; With Rebecca trying to gain the upper hand in her situation, Jane and Bruce work together to try to find her, leading the duo to interesting allies. War breaks out; Maroni and Alex out for her head while a psychotic clown rises. Can they handle the chaos erupting around them? (TDK)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: _Cracked_ is the third part of the "Shattered" series. Though it's not needed, please read _Shattered_ and _Broken_ first - they're not terribly long. :) You may be able to understand, but... I mean, come on. More Bruce equals happy everyone, right? **

**This story is rated M for: strong sexual content, explicit language, scenes of torture, dark themes, strong violence, mentions of controversial situations, and menace. Please do not read if you cannot handle these things, though you will be missed! **

**Summary: Despite Batman's presence, life in Gotham is becoming bleaker and bleaker. The mob rule has resurfaced, and though the city is cleaning its bureaucratic system, Jane still has little faith in the city's officials. While Rebecca tries to gain the upper hand in her hostage situation, Jane and Bruce work together to try to find her, leading Bruce to a psychotic clown and Jane to four interesting young people. A war breaks out between Jane, Bruce, and the mob; Maroni out for her head, and the constant threat of Alex around. Joker rises in the city, creating even more problems for the duo. (Takes place in_ The Dark Knight_)**

**For character pictures, edits, banners, and extra story covers add me on Facebook (Laurel McSuper) or check out my photobucket page (link is on profile).**

**Updating Schedule: (attempting) every Wednesday and Saturday. **

**I hope that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it! I may not get a chance to respond to all reviews, so if you have a major question send me a PM or go through Facebook. I appreciate everything though and I love reading your feedback :)**

* * *

"_A debt has been made_

_That debt must be paid_

_With the blood and the pain_

_The hurt and the flame._

_You will die, Jane_

_But not before you suffer in this game."_

Jane woke with a start. A gasp flying from her lips, her eyes snapped open to see the lump of a beige silk pillow and beyond that, the skyline of Gotham City. For a moment, Jane forgot where she even was. Most definitely not in her bedroom at her apartment, and certainly not on the floor of the warehouse she had visited in her dream. Jane was not covered in blood and there was no throbbing pain in her head or thigh. Instead, there was just the familiar softness of fine silk sheets cocooning her as well as a nice, heavy weight curling around her stomach, pulling her into the hardened body of Bruce behind her.

Their legs were entangled within each other, her back pressed against his chest. He must have come in some time earlier. The sun had risen a little in the sky, though Jane knew that it was still quite early. Eight? Nine? Jane couldn't really tell. The light streaming all around the room would have been bothersome, brightening the bedroom of Bruce Wayne's big penthouse if not for the extremely tinted floor to ceiling windows. Jane could look out, prance around buck-ass naked if she wanted to and not worry about anyone looking from their windows into hers. Not that a situation like that would happen anyway: for one, Jane never pranced around naked, and the penthouse was so high up that all the surrounding buildings were at least two or three stories shorter. At least, the ones close enough that could peer into the window.

They had just moved into this penthouse right after the events of the warehouse. Bruce had convinced her that this penthouse was far more secure than the other. That, and it was just _bigger_. The master bedroom alone was similar in size to the one that had been in Wayne Manor. And that bedroom had been so fucking huge in the first place – almost as large as her whole apartment in the Narrows.

The bedroom was styled much the same as the other penthouse. Sleek with sharp lines and contrasting colors of white, black, and grey. Windows made up the two walls that overlooked Gotham. The bed was in the center of the room, cornered so that it looked out both of the windows. The whole place was beautiful, immaculate. Rich in design and taste and, of course, price. But, what Bruce Wayne wanted, Bruce Wayne got. Jane knew that he wanted to go back to the Manor as soon as it was rebuilt though. There, he wouldn't have to deal with going across town to the docks where the temporary "batcave" was. One of the three suits Bruce had was here in the apartment behind a false wall in this very bedroom, but all of his major equipment was in the "batcave." It made him a little jittery to be so far away from it, and Jane knew that feeling all too well. She hated that she no longer had her favorite handguns anymore. Not since Josh, Tyrone, and Eddie had looted her home.

Thinking about those men brought back memories of that night. Alex coming back from the figurative "dead" so to speak. Rebecca gone, disappearing from Jane in a split instant. She had promised Rebecca that she would keep her safe, that no harm would come to her now that she had moved in with Jane. But no. Jane had failed miserably, the girl being kidnapped and still to this day, missing. Sighing, Jane clenched her jaw as she tried to fight back the self-torturing thoughts. Today she didn't want to think about it. She was still trying to find Rebecca, but didn't know where to look. Now that Maroni had uncovered her deception and betrayal, Jane had nothing to go by. No one to really turn to. She had nothing to do but rely on Bruce. However, even his nighttime escapades had turned up little clues so far as to where Rebecca was being held.

Slowly, Jane shifted, picking up Bruce's hand and slipping out from underneath him. She was too wide awake now to fall back asleep. Right now, she just wanted to relax in Bruce's huge bathtub. Looking over her shoulder to make sure he was still asleep, Jane crept into the bathroom. He was super tired – barely getting any sleep. Jane would have worried a little about it like Alfred if she didn't know better. Bruce might be tired, but he got enough sleep to survive. Jane knew just how much a few naps here and there helped when one didn't get much sleep. It was all Bruce did now, really. During the day he would take a few naps, get the energy, then go out and play the part of billionaire Prince. He would come back home, crash for a little bit longer, and leave when night fell.

She turned on the water faucet in the large tub up against the wall. Plugging the drain, she shed her sleep clothes: underwear and, of course, one of Bruce's shirts. It was one of his older ones, but she liked it nonetheless. Plus, Bruce seemed to like it _a lot _when she wore them too. Sliding down into the tub, she let the water rise to her shoulders before she turned it off. Jane ducked her head fully underwater, remaining underneath there for a little but until she couldn't breathe anymore. When she came back up, Bruce was standing at the door, leaning against it with his sweatpants low on his hips.

She pushed back her hair – now back to its proper length around her collarbone – and wiped at the water on her face. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?" She asked apologetically.

"Maybe. I could have gone back to sleep but…I heard the water running and came to make sure that you hadn't drowned." He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his pants and tugged them down. Jane shifted forward a bit, allowing him room to slide in behind her. She was about to turn to the side when he reached and grabbed her waist, tugging her back to sit in his lap. "Did you think I was going to stay asleep long once I realized that you were not in my arms anymore?"

Jane let her head fall back against his shoulder, completely slacking her body so that she rested into his embrace. Damn, his hugs and all this cuddling was getting to her. It made her all…whoozy. "I'm not in your arms whenever you take your naps throughout the day. So, how would it be any different?"

"Because," he started, and pressed his lips to her temple momentarily, "my sleep then is just as shitty as it is whenever you're gone. What have you done to me, woman? I can't even sleep well when you're not with me. I always sleep the best when I have you wrapped around me. My arms around your waist, hugging you to me. Your head on my shoulder, legs tangled in with mine. Pressed against me so strongly yet softly at the same time." He chuckled a little, and Jane opened her eyes, not even realizing that she had closed them. "Your funny little things that you say whenever you're asleep."

"I do _not_ talk in my sleep." Jane shook her head, speaking defensively even though she was smiling. Bruce put a hand and played a little with her hair.

"Yes you do."

"Oh really? Well then, what do I say?"

"Well…for one, you say that you're always hungry for some reason. I never knew your favorite food was mashed potatoes."

She shrugged. "Mamsy was from the south and liked to cook them a lot. They were always fucking _great_, but no one can cook them like she did. The ones from the box don't taste the same as homemade ones. And that fancy restaurant you took me to can't make them properly either."

"You also talk sometimes about _Daylight Hours_. That really awful soap opera that they play a lot of reruns of. You actually watch that?" Instead of answering this time, she nodded, and Bruce continued. "You also get a little, ah, _eager_ in your sleep sometimes. A few times I've woken up to you grinding a little against me."

Jane sat up immediately, whirling her torso around face him, water splashing. She swatted him on the chest, but couldn't stop laughing at his comment. "Yeah right! I do _not_. You little liar. You're just trying to get me all embarrassed and shit."

"So you're more embarrassed about being a little _excited _than watching a show light _Daylight Hours_? You know, it's perfectly natural to feel a bit enthusiastic – especially when you're around _me_," he teased and grasped her wrist, Jane rolling her eyes at the comment. "But to actually watch such television? Why, you should be repulsed that you can even stand to watch it."

"How do you know when I feel _enthusiastic _as you termed it that I'm thinking of you? Maybe I'm thinking of… Paul from the show. You know, the one with the brown hair and bright green eyes? Yeah, now _he's _a cutie pie." Jane shifted so that her legs were bent on either side of his as she faced him, arms snaking around his neck. "But I _guess _you're okay. For a rich guy and all."

Bruce quirked an eyebrow and ran his hands up her thighs. Jane shivered a little at the contact, but refused to let her eyes widen as he let one slip to the inside, heading straight for the area he knew very well. "Oh _really_." He let one finger run up her length causing Jane's thighs to tense around his. "Well, I don't know about _Paul, _but I'm fairly certain that I'm the only one who knows all the right _buttons _to push when dealing with you."

Her breath hitched as he traced a little pattern between her legs. Then, he withdrew his hand, placing it on her thigh as he smirked at her. "That's what you get for saying I'm _just okay_." Jane scowled, swiveling around and going back to her prior position against his chest. He laughed as she pouted a little, wrapping her up tightly with his arms. "You also seem to have a lot of nightmares," he whispered after a pause, moving a hand back to her hair and soothing it. "Are you doing okay, Jane?"

Bruce put his lips on her temple again, giving her a small, comforting kiss. No, Jane wanted to say, she was _not _doing okay. Every time she closed her eyes it seemed that Alex was there, toying with her like he had before. She kept dreaming that she was tied down, unable to stop him as he beat her until she cried out, screaming. Alex would smile at her, then grab Rebecca and pull her into view. He would slit her throat, Rebecca's body dropping to the ground as Jane screamed for him to stop. Alex then brought Bruce into the picture, his body bruised and broken. Alex would kill him, too. Kill him with stab after stab after stab, drawing out the horrible death as Jane was forced to sit and watch.

There was also the note. The poem that sent chills down Rebecca's spine every time she read it. When she had shown it to Bruce, he had been extremely angry, almost violent while he crumbled the note in his hands. They had run tests on it, finding that the writer was an Edward Nigma, one of Maroni's scientist friends. Bruce had searched for addresses but found none on file. Edward – Eddie – was blank. Vanished from the system just like Alex was. Obviously, the man had friends in higher places. But if he worked for Maroni, Jane knew that it was a lost cause to go searching for records, knowing that there would be little to none.

It was the same dream ever night. No wonder Bruce sometimes seemed concerned when he would wake. He never said anything about it, though. She was dumb to think he hadn't noticed. She hadn't exactly done a good job of putting on a façade about it. With Bruce, he always saw through her, just like she did with him.

Jane sunk deeper into his arms, slacking her muscles even more as she closed her eyes, placing her head on his shoulder as her hands found his. "I'm just still a little shaken is all. For years I thought Alex was dead. He wasn't supposed to come back to Gotham, and I shouldn't be surprised that he did now that Falcone's gone."

"Who is he anyway? You've never talked about him before." Bruce ran his thumbs in circles over her hands soothingly, like he was trying to coax her to talk about it further. Since that night a few months ago, Jane had never spoken much about Alex, so it didn't surprise her that Bruce was asking now.

"When I joined Falcone he charged Alex with teaching me how to fight. It was an honor, really. Apparently Alex never taught anyone even though he was Falcone's best mercenary. Alex was disgruntled but had no choice – what Falcone said was practically law. Even with a guy like him. So, he taught me, but didn't like that I was extremely defensive in technique. Rarely would I enact a fight, preferring to just block whatever he gave me. Alex kept trying to break that part of me out, saying that I would never make a good fighter until I got that out of my system.

"We, uh, began seeing each other outside of the training sessions. He was handsome and charming; I was young and searching for some comfort after my dad's death. It was stupid, but I… I gave him my virginity. After that, Alex began to be a bit more aggressive during our lessons, trying to coax me to fight him instead. He got a little rough and I screamed. Falcone came in and became furious. I was his favorite, so when he saw what Alex was doing he kicked him out and threatened his life if he ever came back into Gotham. He disappeared after that, and I never heard from him again. It wasn't until I became older when I realized how stupid I was thinking a guy like that could be the one for me."

"Did he ever…force himself on you?" Bruce asked though Jane knew he was uncomfortable asking by the tone of his voice.

She sighed, shaking her head. "No. I went along with everything willingly. That day he was kicked out he tried, but told Falcone that he hadn't seriously been about to rape me, that he was just trying to get me to lash out first. He didn't get far though, and I never considered myself his victim. I still don't know. Everything I did, I did out of stupidity, but my hand wasn't forced."

Bruce was quiet as his hands continued their little patterns on her hand. She sucked in a deep breath and opened her eyes. His gaze was ahead into the water, watching their hands intertwined on the smooth skin of her waist. When he felt her eyes on him, he looked at her, brown eyes thoughtful. "I never got any pleasure from our relationship. I've only gotten true satisfaction from you, Bruce." She whispered, hoping that it would ease his thoughts. She didn't know what he was thinking, but she didn't like it when he was this quiet and brooding.

"I'm glad to hear that." He smiled genuinely and brought their arms up and wrapped them around her torso. "I've only received true satisfaction from you as well."

"What about Rachel? Did you two ever have a relationship that was more than friendly?"

"No. Rachel was merely an infatuation that I thought was love. She's only a friend now, a childhood one that will always have a special place in my heart." Jane nodded in understanding. Not that she knew what childhood friends were. But, whatever. "Rachel's a good woman, and she'll make Dent or whoever it is that she marries a very happy man. She's just not right for me." She smiled at him, turning her head a little awkwardly to brush her lips very lightly against the skin of his neck.

"Sometimes, when we're lonely, emotions are easily mistaken for love." She said. Looking up at the ceiling again, Jane could feel that she was falling more in love with Bruce. Every kiss, every touch, every word, every _breath_ that he took made her desire him. Crave him. Not only on a physical level, but also on an emotional level. She connected with him so easily and he made her feel so safe and secure no matter what was going on. Bruce never failed to be her safety net and she was forever indebted for that.

She wasn't in love yet. Jane was, however, getting there at a speed that rivaled that of light.

She didn't know what their future would hold. With his nighttime activities as Gotham's protector and hers as, well, _nothing_ anymore, Jane didn't know if they would be able to give any more than they already did. As she had already told herself, she would never ask him to give him being Batman. But what kind of life would that give them? Jane pushed the fears out of her mind – she had already faced them before and had run away from Bruce. He kept entering her life for a reason, and she'd be dammed if she pushed him away again. Jane had been miserable. She wouldn't get rid of someone who cared so much about her again.

They would just have to wait and see what would happen.

Threading her fingers through his, she held his arms close to her. The water was cooling around them, but Jane didn't mind. Not as long as Bruce was holding her. She was addicted to his touch. "You're right." Bruce agreed with her as he rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand like he always did. "I used to think that Rachel and I would end up together. But…after she so easily believed the lie Alfred and I created, I realized that I changed too much in those seven years. I wasn't the same person anymore. Maybe if I hadn't gone to Falcone's that night and met you, therefore leaving Gotham, we would have ended up together. But not now."

Jane paused to mull that over a little bit. She never really thought about it, but Bruce had a point. If he hadn't come in that one night the two of them would have never came in contact with each other. Well, they may have, but it wouldn't have been the same. Bruce had never spoken about those seven years that he was gone, nor did she ask. Jane knew that he would tell her at his own pace, and unlike him, she would respect that. He might have known about some of her past, and the knowledge that she knew next to nothing would have pissed her off a few months ago. But now, it didn't even faze her. By listening to what Bruce just said though, she could deduce that he had left Gotham somehow by her influence.

Damn. That night seemed so long ago. Seven years? Had it really been some seven-odd years? Fuck, she was getting old. She was what? Twenty-five and a half now? _Damn_. Fuck man. She would turn twenty-six in three months. Goodness gracious. If she had gone to college, she would have graduated by now and would probably be working her way up a career ladder. She wouldn't have been involved with Maroni, wouldn't have allied with Gordon, wouldn't have met Bruce, wouldn't have come into contact with Crane or Rebecca or Eric, and…wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be lying contently in Bruce's arms.

No matter what had happened with her, Jane couldn't bring herself to regret any of her decisions. She did regret Eric's death, Rebecca's recapturement, and not taking people like Crane and Maroni seriously enough, but her actions? No. They had brought her to be right here with the one man who she felt more safe with than anyone she had ever met before. More so than even her father. Unlike so many others in her life, Bruce had always been there with her. Protecting her, comforting her, caring for her. He meant so much to her and…life without him there…it seemed dismal. She would have been stuck in the circle that was her life. Hating herself and hating the world.

Now that she had Bruce though everything seemed to change. She actually laughed for real now – not a fake one that she was so used to emitting. She smiled more, admired little things too. Like how she really liked rainfall at night and the smell of it in the early morning. Jane also liked Alfred's pancakes but hated waffles. Loved the feel of satin and cotton while loving the smell of the detergent Alfred used. Jane also loved more than anything Bruce's natural scent: light hints of musk mixed with mint, his taste of light citrus fruit and sugar. Jane also liked it when he held her, and that he always picked on her for liking stupid television sitcoms from the seventies. Jane liked waking up in the wee hours of the morning to watch Bruce shed the batsuit, unmasking before her eyes just before he slipped into bed with her. She liked to be kissed on the top of her shoulder before drifting off to sleep, and really _really _liked some sort of physical contact while she slumbered.

Jane wouldn't have known any of these things if she hadn't met Bruce. These little odd, insignificant little facts about herself. But she was glad that she knew them. Was glad that she had the luck to meet someone like Bruce and Alfred. Alfred, the old butler who finally opened up to her more now that she was at the penthouse all the time. At first, he had been slightly standoffish, but something that Jane could understand. It seemed that now that he was used to her things were changing between she and Bruce's caretaker. Bonded by their care for Bruce, both of them realized that they were there to fulfill separate roles. Alfred, to be his conscious, his Jiminy Cricket of sorts to look after and make sure Bruce kept up the appearance needed to sustain his alter ego. Jane, to be Bruce's support while also being a challenge, to comfort Bruce in as many ways as possible, and to always be there for him much like he was for her.

She couldn't, however, delude herself into thinking that she was perfectly safe now. Life would never be all roses and niceness for her. In the pit of her stomach, Jane knew that something was brewing within Gotham. Not only had she not found Rebecca, but Alex and Maroni were still out there, having plans for her in order to avenge themselves. This moment of peace was merely the eye of the storm. She had to be prepared for whatever the two men could throw at her. And, to be honest, while she knew that she could always count on Bruce, she was petrified of facing Alex again. The man was stronger than anyone she knew, stronger even than Bruce perhaps. What would she do if she faced him again? Jane wasn't ready for that physical stand-off. His confrontation had damaged the idea that she was untouchable, and proved that she was not a God. Jane knew now that she had her limitations, and in a way, was even glad that Alex had shown up. She had become far too cocky, and she had paid the price.

Maroni…she wasn't extremely worried about. Sure, the guy had surprised her by figuring out that she had been the one to foil Falcone and keep up a ruse for ten years, but still. The guys he hired and surrounded himself with? Amateurs. She could take them easily. As long as he didn't put Alex up against her, she didn't have too much to worry about. Maroni would probably send men, and those she could handle. _Just not Alex_. Not only was the guy physically imposing, but he was also scary as fuck. The guy didn't feel remorse or anything. Like a damn robot or something. He felt nothing but anger, did nothing that would not serve to benefit him in some way.

Bruce ran a finger down her cheek, and Jane closed her eyes as his gentle touch went down the side of her face to cup her chin. He lightly turned her head to face him. Cupping her jawline with his hand, he let his thumb swipe across her lower lip. Jane opened her eyes to find him looking down at her with a tenderness that made her heart swell to an unnatural size in her chest, causing her almost physical pain. But a good pain. "What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"I know that it's kind of taboo but…how did you learn to fight? When I first met you, you didn't seem to know anything about self-defense, much less how to really throw a proper punch. Now you're one of the best fighters I've seen."

Bruce chuckled and moved his hand to wrap her fingers around a few strands of her damp hair. Face amused, he watched his touch glide down her locks. He had a really weird obsession with touching her hair for some reason. What would happen if she decided to hack it all off? "You've beaten me once, don't you remember?"

"Only because I seduced you." She frowned. "It's still a win, but I don't consider it much of a defeat now that I think about it." If Alex was back, he was going to come after her. _See you later, sunshine_, he had said just before slamming her head into the steps. Alex hadn't disappeared; she would be utterly foolish to think that. If he was coming for her, she wanted to be more prepared to face him. The only other person she knew that could challenge him was Bruce. If she wanted to be able to defend herself properly against him when Bruce wasn't around, she was going to have to learn a few more tricks than the ones that she had. "When Alex comes back-"

"-he won't." Bruce interrupted harshly, eyes hardening as his hand stilled. "He won't come close to you again. Not as long as I'm around to protect you. He won't get another chance to lay a hand on you – I promise."

Jane sighed and sat up, moving to sit astride his hips again. She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him, and pressed a small, light kiss on his forehead. "Don't make promises that you can't possibly keep, Bruce," she whispered against his skin before drawing back to meet his eyes. "I know you can protect me, but we both know that there are going to be times when we're apart."

"Not if I can help it." Bruce mused with a smile, sliding his hands up her thighs to her hips. He pulled her against him. "I can think of a few ways that we can stay together all the time." His words, spoken in a low, playful growl combined with his strong grip on her waist sent a familiar shudder down her spine. "Can't you?" He leaned forward and gave her a kiss before Jane pushed him back.

"Bruce, I'm serious."

"So am I." Jane gave him a hard look, daring him to try to change the subject again. She wasn't going to try to pull out the information about those seven years, but she still wanted him to hear her out and understand where she was coming from. It would be hard – he didn't know how ferocious of a fighter Alex was. How aggressive the man could get. Bruce sighed, sensing her harsh resolve and loosened his grip though his hands didn't fall from their place. "You want me to teach you some of what I learned?" She nodded. "Fine. I guess you're right about us being apart, and this guy must be something if you're this worked up about it. Besides," he said with a smirk, "I think I'll _like_ pinning you to the floor."

* * *

Rebecca couldn't sleep.

How could she? With the constant laughs and giggles from the opposite room, it would be foolish to think that she ever would. She groaned, stretching her arms high above her head as she rolled over onto the opposite side. Lying on the cold, hard concrete floor should have bothered her. Probably would have if she could think a bit more clearly through the thick, hazy fog that was now her mind. It didn't though. Barely fazed her as she tried once more to drift off into a comfortable sleep. Curling into a fetal position, Rebecca wrapped her legs up in her arms, looking much like a child in a mother's womb as her knees grazed her chest.

Barefoot and wearing a simple tee-shirt and ripped jeans, the chill of the air threatened to send Rebecca into a cold fit. She sniffled a few times, but didn't cough. Strange since she probably should have been sick already. Come to think of it, she would probably be dead if it weren't for the few trips she was able to make upstairs whenever Eddie deemed fit enough. At the wall behind her head, the shrill laughter of Harley Quinn was evident, mingled in with the voice of Joker threatening her to shut up. Ever true to Harley's character, she obeyed like a puppy, immediately quieting and Rebecca closed her eyes in the sweet bliss of silence.

The room she was in had no windows. Nothing but a dim bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, barely providing enough light to illuminate the entire room. Instead, it mainly brightened the area in a circle around where Rebecca laid in the very center. Something about her position seemed oddly familiar to her, but she was far too tired to think of where she could have remembered it. Besides, thinking used too much energy. Especially with the thick fog that surrounded most of her mind, giving her the impression that her braid was half made of cotton. Fuzzy and distorted, what little she could remember of her former life – she had to have one. Surely she hadn't been in this…cell for forever – was indiscernible. What was real and what wasn't? She didn't know. It was better that she not know, sometimes. Better not to think too much on it. Rebecca really didn't want to have to be faced with the thoughts that what she _thought _she could remember of her prior years were real or not.

She didn't even know how old she was. Seventeen? Twenty-eight? How old _was_ she? Oh, what did it matter? There was no use in things like ages. She did know her name, but only because that was what Eddie called her. For all she knew 'Rebecca' wasn't even her real name. So, why think too much on things like that? It just wasted time and exhausted her brain power. Something that Eddie said she would need shortly. She didn't want to think too much about that though. Didn't want to think too much about anything, actually. But _especially _not the ominous words Eddie had said when he had given her that creepy smile, that beguiling look that sent a terrified shiver down her back.

Rebecca wasn't comfortable. So, she flipped to the other side, the rope tied at her left ankle scraping against her bloodied and raw skin a little as she winced in pain. Curious for once, Rebecca sat up a little, resting on her left palm as she moved her right leg out of the way to examine her ankle. Even though her skin and the room was dark, she could faintly tell there were bruises around the skin. A deep rut had been carved into the ankle, blood drenching the rope around it. Had she tried to escape? Surely not. Eddie would be furious! He scared her – terrified her – but to escape? Imagine his anger at her. The punishment she would face… No, no. Surely she hadn't tried to leave before.

Besides, outside the door was where the man with the scars was. Just thinking about him caused Rebecca to grimace. He had funny scars coming upwards from the sides of his mouth, giving him the permanent look of a smile. Not a nice smile, though. A sinister one. A creepy one. Much more creepy than even Eddie's. The man even painted his face. White greasepaint that ended at his jaw, black covering his eyes and the area around it, red painted on his lips and up the length of the scars. Like a melted, messy clown almost. Just not…fun. Clowns were fun, weren't they?

Oh, she didn't know. Not wanting to think too much on that thought, Rebecca shrugged off the man with the painted face and green hair – Joker was what Eddie called him. He was in the room behind her with his girlfriend, Harley. Yes, yes, the pretty blonde girl with the huge blue eyes and the doll-like expressions. She, too, painted her face sometimes. A stark white, much like Joker's, except her's was cleaner, better applied. Harley dyed the tips of her hair red and black. She matched that with dark red lipstick and huge black-lined eyes. It gave her a really haunting expression, bringing to attention the piercing pale blue of her unnaturally large eyes. She, too, was also creepy. Not as creepy as Joker though.

Rebecca laid back down on the ground, once more bringing her legs to her chest. Yes, there was no reason that she could explain to herself as to why her ankle was bloodied so. She couldn't have escaped. Eddie had said that if she tried, Joker and Harley would come after her. And that wouldn't be a good thing. No, not a good thing at all. To escape would be stupid, Rebecca knew that. Not only had Eddie told her, but the tall man with the blonde hair had, too. The man who asked her a lot of questions about another girl. A blonde one, but not Harley. No, no this one that he was interested in was…different. She had never seen her before. Not until the blonde man had shown her a picture. The face seemed familiar, almost as if Rebecca had conjured her in a dream. Apparently she was real though.

When Rebecca had told the man – Alex, that was what Eddie called him – that she didn't know anything about the girl, he had become really angry. Not at her, but at Eddie. Eddie had been almost frightened looking, looking even more thin and scrawny when compared to the mountainous man that was Alex. Alex hadn't hurt him though. He just looked like he was going to. That was good. If Alex hurt Eddie then no one would be there to protect Rebecca from Joker and Harley. She was scared of Eddie, but even more so hated the other two faux clowns. They…they were…wrong.

Her mind tired from thinking, Rebecca shook her head, moving to lie on her back instead. Too much thoughts for now. Eddie said that she shouldn't think unless he was around. It was bad, apparently. She would get lost in her thoughts, caught up too much in memories that she didn't know were real or fake and be sucked into the dark, dangerous world that made up her inner mind. It was only safe, Eddie said, if she did it when he was there to protect her. He also gave her some medicine that didn't make her feel as groggy, and she was able to think more clearly when he gave it to her. It helped a lot. She liked the medicine.

Harley laughed uproariously again, but this time Joker didn't cut her off. He laughed with her. "It's a _great _plan Mister J!" The way Harley spoke, it sounded like she had said 'Mista' instead. A weird accent that Rebecca couldn't place. It didn't matter. The way Harley spoke made Rebecca's skin crawl. She didn't know many things, but she knew that Harley Quinn was a little messed up in the head.

"_Harley_," Joker scolded, the laughter ceasing. "What have I, ah, _told_ you about these _walls_?"

"That they're thin." Harley's voice had calmed considerably, though holding a faint note of fright. Rebecca herself even cringed a little at Joker's tone. "But Joker, I-" A loud _thump _was heard, causing Rebecca to twitch a little at the unexpected sound. Harley must have been hit, for a low, keening sound was heard through the walls. "Sorry, Mister J." The sounds from the room then all but silenced.

Rebecca closed her eyes and soaked in the quietness once more. Something about the silence in the room gave her a peaceful edge, one that she rarely found in this place. Sighing, she stretched her limbs out on either side of her and tried to envelope herself into the darkness and warmth that was sleep. Sleep…sleep was good. She hadn't slept in a while. To be able to get in a few hours of nice shut-eye was what she needed. Eddie had always said that sleep was the best thing you could do for your body.

The door to her small, rectangular room was kicked open, and Rebecca's eyes snapped open at the sound. Turning her head to see who was coming in, she couldn't make out the details of his face or his clothing, but just knew that it was Eddie. Eddie was the only one who ever came to see her in her room. He was the only one that she knew that was so tall and frail looking, thin like she was but still a man. He stepped forward and closed the door, Rebecca not moving at all as she watched him turn back to face her. Striding forwards, he bent and rested on his heels, putting his elbows on his knees so that his hands dangled in the space between his legs.

"Good afternoon, Rebecca." He said. Lifting a long, thin hand, Eddie fixed his thin-framed black glasses so that they were no longer crooked on his sallow, sharply-edged, and thin face. He was an odd man, really. Neither tall or short, he wouldn't be one to stand out in a crowd. His mousy brown hair was always messy and a little greasy at the roots, sticking in different directions on top of his head. Eddie had brownish-green eyes that were always held wide open like he was trying his hardest not to blink. Pale white skin made the ever-present dark circles under his eyes even darker.

Was if afternoon? Rebecca didn't know. It could be afternoon or it could not. Eddie always tried to confuse her. Rebecca was as soon just not listen to him because he never revealed anything when he did speak to her. Instead of speaking, she blinked at him, and turned her head back to face the ceiling. Only, she couldn't see the ceiling. Everything past the bright light bulb was shrouded in darkness so it was invisible to her. It was like the corners of the room – not that she could reach them if she tried. Her rope wasn't long enough to give her that much freedom of movement.

Eddie clicked his tongue a few times, and from the corners of Rebecca's vision, she could see his eyes go down her body. Not in a sexual way, more so like a doctor who was examining his patient. "I see you tried to get the rope off again," he noted, his eyes staying on her bloodied ankle. Curious, Rebecca looked at him, and he shifted his gaze back to hers. "You have fresh blood on your ankles." She shook her head in a negative fashion and he sighed. She couldn't have tried to escape – could she? Having decided that it was safer in the room, she wouldn't have dared tried to leave it. Not with men like Joker and Alex, and women like Harley out there. It was simply…too dangerous to even consider the possibility.

"I didn't," she croaked, her throat dry and scratchy. She hadn't even realized she was thirsty until now. Or was she thirsty? Was she hungry, too? "I've been here this whole time, trying to sleep."

"But your ankle here says different," he waved a hand to the bottom of her leg, eyes staying on her face. "Are you sure that you didn't try to leave? You know that if you did there could be serious consequences. If Joker, Alex, or Harley were to catch you, you would be _their_ play thing. They're not as nice as I am. So, I hope you're not trying to escape or anything because I would hate to see you get hurt."

Rebecca sat up and put her hand on Eddie's shoulder as he moved to stand. Eyes wide, pleading, she practically begged as she spoke. "I swear I haven't tried to leave! I wouldn't do something like that. Not with them outside. I've listened to you, Eddie, and I know that they would hurt me. Not like you – you wouldn't hurt me."

Eddie smiled at her, covering her hand with his own in a soothing manner before placing it on her cheek tenderly. "I wouldn't dream of it, Becky. To hurt you would be like hurting myself. I care for you greatly, you understand that, right? That's why I keep you down here, to help protect you from them. They want you. They want to kill you. But I'm able to keep them away. I hope that you appreciate that." His smile was creepy, slimy, but she accepted it warmly along with his words.

Nodding, she leaned into his cold touch. Or was it cold? What _was_ cold? "I appreciate it very much, Eddie. I don't like it when you're gone. They…they're in the room behind me, and they scare me."

"They are very scary, aren't they?" Eddie agreed and removed his hand, putting it back on his knee. "But they're not going to come anywhere near you. I'll make sure of that, my Becky. My pretty, sweet Becky." Tilting his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes on her face like he was studying her more. Rebecca watched him carefully as he did so. No matter how much he may be protecting her, she knew he was still dangerous. She could sense it on him somehow, red flags going up in her mind when he came around her. "How have your thoughts been today? Think of anything important?"

She shook her head, her long, straight brown hair shaking around her. "No. I've tried not to think too much. It's hard to. Like something's stopping me from thinking a whole lot." He seemed pleased by this and gave a firm nod as he smiled. Standing, he clasped his hands behind his back. Eddie stepped backwards, slowly making his way towards the door. Rebecca sat, watching him as he opened the door.

"Until tomorrow, Rebecca. Our next meeting will be…far more interesting, I believe." He bowed slightly at her and then left. Rebecca frowned at his statement. What, exactly, did he mean by that? Not wanting to mull too much over it, she laid down on the floor again, curling up. When her foot scraped on the rope, the fibers digging into her ankle a little more, she winced at the pain. The rope must have been there for a reason, but what it was she didn't know. Pillowing her head with her hands, Rebecca sighed contently, closing her eyes, and wishing to not be interrupted again.

* * *

Jane didn't know how long she and Bruce had been in the tub, but when she woke up, the water was practically ice against her skin and she was all pruny like an old woman. With a scowl, she shifted in Bruce's lap and stood. The water rolled off her skin and back into the water, making noises as she stepped out and onto the cold tile floor. Reaching over, she pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around her. Her hair was already dry, as was her shoulders and everything that had been above the waterline.

When she looked over her shoulder as she patted her body, she saw that Bruce, too, was startled awake. Whatever the reason was for his waking, he groaned in discontent when he realized just how damn cold the water had become. "You look like an old man," she giggled, picking on him while bending over to poke him in the chest. When she met his eyes, she saw that wicked gleam in them, and was about to pull away as her mouth formed an "o." Bruce grabbed her arm and yanked her back into the cold water. She splashed everything around them as she landed once more in his lap. "Bruce! What the _fuck_?!"

Bruce laughed at her and she narrowed her eyes at him. Forming a fist, she sent a strong punch into his left shoulder, and then moved as quickly as she could – not giving a damn about the towel. It was already wet, anyway, clinging around her thighs as she moved to straddle him. Putting her knees into the indentions of his elbows like always – a move that Alex had taught her long ago – she put one hand between their touching waists, feeling for that particular body part that both he and she were rather attached to. His laughter turned into a groan as she stroked him once, and she smirked in satisfaction as he closed his eyes.

"You know," he said as she let her fingers feather against him once more. "If this is what you deem punishment then perhaps I should piss you off more," he grunted out a word as she squeezed the head lightly. Not enough to hurt him, but solidly enough for him to realize that she was the one in control. He let his head drop back to rest on the edge of the sink, his breathing ragged as she watched him, carefully gauging any signs. He was hard in her hand, pulsing and warm despite the coldness of the water.

One final stroke and she withdrew her hand, quickly standing from the water. The towel dropped from her and onto Bruce's stomach, and his eyes shot wide open at being left abandoned. Still hard, he frowned as she laughed at _him_ this time, putting her hands on her hips. "That's what you get, you asshole." Jane stepped out of the tub hurriedly before he could pull her back down. Reaching for yet another towel, she laughed while Bruce groaned, his head thunking against the tub at being left. She dried off again – this time staying far away from his reach – and went into the bedroom to put on some clothes so she could be suitable to walk out into the rest of the apartment. Unlike the old place, Alfred was always here. She didn't know what she – or the old man – would do if she pranced around with just a towel.

Bruce was letting out a steady stream of curses as Jane shut the bathroom door behind her. Still giggling and smiling like a fucking idiot, she went over to her bureau, quickly opening a few drawers. She dropped the towel and it pooled at her feet. Not completely dry but not wanting to stay naked for when Bruce came out, she hastily pulled on a pair of underwear and a bra first, then went back to searching for a pair of jeans and a sweater. Since Eddie, Tyrone, and Josh had destroyed everything that she owned in her old apartment, she had to rebuild her wardrobe from scratch.

She let Bruce pay for it, but made him pick out a few things just so she could feel better about it. Mixed in with the more feminine things that she had chosen, there were the plaid button-downs and skinny jeans that he had chosen. Bruce was fine with her walking around in his clothes all day, rather liking it actually – and not-to-secretly, so did she – and so when he had picked out his choices for her, she hadn't been surprised when he chose men style shirts. Apparently, he liked her fashion taste well enough. In the back of the drawer, however, were things that he had been far too excited to buy for her.

As she dug through the different wife-beater tank tops, her hands drew across them, reminding her of the look on his face as she watched her open the boxes they came in. Jane hadn't had a chance to look at them before he actually bought them, and was pleasantly surprised to notice that she actually, well, fucking loved his choices. Lacy and in colors like red and black, the lingerie wasn't extremely bawdy and vulgar in design, but more subtly and pretty. Feminine, and gorgeous, delicate and light in her hand. Everything that she wasn't. A nice contrast. Her favorite piece, though, was the white baby doll silk. It was absolutely beautiful – soft with lace trimming around the top and bottom. Extremely tasteful and womanly. She had yet to wear it, but looked forward to donning it one day. That one was one that she had picked out without his knowledge, so he had yet to see it. Jane couldn't wait until he did, and as a fantasy formed in her mind, she smiled to herself, pulling out a black wife-beater.

When she pulled it over her head, her phone rang loudly on the right bedside table. Picking up a random pair of jeans, she hurried over to the vibrating cell. She checked the number before she answered it – a habit that she had picked up over the years – and was a little surprised when she saw that it was Rachel. What could she want? Stepping into the jeans by holding them up with one hand, she struggled a little while she grabbed the phone. Giving up, she fell onto the bed and hiked the jeans up to her thighs on both legs before she flipped the phone open and pressed it to her ear.

"Jane here," she said. Standing, she pulled the skinny jeans up to her hips, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder. Jane zipped and buttoned them, then fixed her hem of the tank so that it covered her stomach. The bathroom door opened and Bruce walked out, a towel around his waist.

"Jane. We got Maroni."

* * *

**POV shifts everywhere! I wonder who else's mind we will get to see :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another beginning chapter where not a whole lot happens. But these are nice :)**

**Remember that "updating schedule"? Yeah, _bump_ that shit. **

**HUGE thanks to those who review/favorite/follow. Especially review - you guys hold a special place in my tiny, cold heart. *insert cheesy violin music here***

***2:43 edit: BAH! HOW COULD I MISS SO MUCH? Stupid editing mistakes. Bar. I need a beta. Thanks to Medisha and a guest reviewer - whose review has disappeared for some odd reason not of my own - for pointing these out! **

* * *

Bruce must have realized the shock on Jane's face wasn't from him standing shirtless and still a little wet from the bath. Her grip around the phone tightened as her eyes immediately went from the wooden floor up to his. Instantly, his shoulders visibly broadened as he stood up straighter, recognizing that this phone call was of some importance. Jane searched for words, her mouth gaping open as Rachel waited patiently on the other end for her to fucking say something. _We got Maroni_. No fucking way. They were able to secure enough evidence to take the bastard to trial? Though Jane's testimony could probably get him a nice sized sentence, Rachel had told her that Jane would be used only as a last resort. It would be extremely dangerous for her to testify against Maroni, especially with him already holding a huge vendetta against her.

Jane didn't truly think that the police would ever be able to get their hands on the man. It seemed too far of a stretch for the cops of Gotham. But…it seemed that they surprised her - which, apparently was the thing these days. Jane couldn't decide whether to be happy about that or be totally pissed off that people kept fucking shocking her with acts that she couldn't predict. "Did you hear me, Jane? I said we got Maroni. You were right about Josh. We found him breaking and entering in some house, and we made a deal with him. He would tell us about Maroni and we would give him a lesser sentence," the assistant defense attorney chuckled a little as Jane continued to stand slack-jawed with her hand tightening around the phone. "The guy is a total _wuss _just like you said, and a complete idiot. Anyway, we got him to sign saying that Maroni was the new crime leader of the Falcone family and everything! The case is practically sealed now. There's no way that Maroni is going to be able to worm his way out of this one. We got him good this time."

"What happened?" Bruce whispered to Jane as he now stood in front of her. Jane put a hand against his chest and held the phone piece away from her mouth so that she could speak to him without talking to Rachel.

"They got Maroni." She said, and his eyes widened in shock – much like hers had. How could they believe that the cops had finally managed to get it together and get Maroni? It was a difficult concept to grasp, and one that Jane was still trying to wrap her head around. Rachel was harping her name on the other end of the phone and Jane put the piece back into place. "You actually got him? Like, really? That's…That's fucking fantastic, Rachel! I mean really, it is!"

"I know, isn't it? Harvey is beside himself with excitement about it. This will be huge for his career and could help him secure re-election in four years. Oh, I know it's a long ways from now, but _still_. He's about to do what no one has managed to do yet: successfully prosecute a major mob boss! And what's better, we've cleared out all of the crooked judges. Based on the information that you gave us when we brought Falcone in, we've managed to find a judge who's willing to prosecute Maroni and someone that we _know _is clean. Maroni can't rest on an insanity plea either. He's too damn proud to go to an insane asylum. Oh, gosh, Jane I'm so _excited _about this!"

"I can tell." Jane chuckled, her hand sliding down Bruce's chest to rest at her side again. Bruce turned and went to go put clothes on. Jane slid down until she sat on the bed, sinking a little into the mattress as she crossed her ankles. "This is really great news, Rachel. Really, I'm just as excited as you are about this." Seriously? Did they seriously get Maroni? Was she dreaming right now?

"Gordon's about to go arrest him and everything. The trial should be like, next week or something. We're trying to make it get here already so that he can be officially off the streets for quite some time, you know? Well, we're aiming for it to be next week, but there's really no telling when it will be. I still don't think it would be a good idea for you to come though. Just in case. Harvey and I are sure that we can prosecute him effectively, but there are a hundred different things that can go wrong. If he's still out to get you, your best bet will be to stay away from the courthouse."

Jane was _so_ not used to this - this whole protectiveness thing that seemed to strike Bruce and Rachel when dealing with her. So odd. Was this how they always were with everyone they came in contact with? With Bruce, she kind of expected it. He sort of had that protective thing when it came to pretty much anyone. Still, though, from someone like Rachel? The two women had barely spoken, meeting only on a rare occasion.

"Oh, um, okay then," Jane mumbled awkwardly. She did kind of want to go to the trial to watch Maroni finally get what he deserved, but she saw Rachel's logic in it all. If it was too dangerous for her to testify, then it would be just as much so for her to actually attend the trial. Maybe once he was in prison – where he belonged – she could go visit and gloat over his position compared to hers. For now, though, that would have to wait. Hopefully she wouldn't have to wait long. "Do you think there's going to be any more complications? Any way that he could possibly get free?

"None at all. Unless Josh goes back on what he says, but we have it signed and on record that he said everything. This case is practically in the bag and everything." Rachel sighed happily on the other end. "When are you going to come see me and Harvey again? I know that we've been awfully busy these past few months, but you should come eat lunch with us again at one point. You made _quite_ an impression on Harvey."

She laughed, switching the phone to her other ear as she turned her head to watch Bruce pull a black long-sleeved tee shirt over his head. The material clung to his broad shoulders and muscular arms, but hung looser around his fit stomach. Damn that man had an amazing body. Her heart nearly jumped in her throat when he rolled up the sleeves, exposing the toned muscles of his forearms. _Fuck_… She cleared her throat, and Bruce looked over his shoulder. Seeing her slightly-flushed expression and the wicked gleam in her eyes that resembled the one he had before he pulled her back into the tub, he winked. Jane narrowed her eyes. That man better be damn glad that he was pretty or else she would have strangled his neck a long time ago.

"I don't know. Sometime soon. Before or after Bruce's funeral is up for debate." She said. Bruce gave her another look over his shoulder and Jane smirked at him. He turned fully around this time and walked towards her, Jane screeching a little as he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down onto the bed.

"Uh, Jane? I'll call you back."

"Sorry, Rach_el_," Bruce laid down on top of her and pulled the phone away, snapping it closed and tossing it to the other side of the bed. "Hey! I was talking to a friend." Jane mockingly tried to be angry as Bruce took her wrists in his hands, leaning back to pull her off the bed. They stood, the back of her knees pressing against the mattress as she gave him a curious look. "What are you doing…?"

"Getting back at you. _That's _what I'm doing." Taking her by the hands, Bruce pulled her down onto the ground, rolling her over onto her back as he climbed atop her. Holding her down with his weight, he took her hands and pushed her wrists above her head, locking them there firmly as he wormed one knee in between both of hers. Making it easy for him, Jane parted them, allowing Bruce to slide his body between them. A perfect fit, just like always. "What you did back in the tub was _very_ mean."

"Well, you weren't Mister Nice Guy yourself either," she challenged, lifting her chin as she tried to pull her hands down. His grip there wouldn't let her though, successfully shackling them together into the floor. She tried to crane her neck to look at her arms stretched to their limits over her head, back arching and causing her chest to press against Bruce's while exposing the entire length of her neck to him. Bruce nuzzled against the curve between her shoulder and neck.

"Bruce," she gasped, closing her eyes as he began to kiss the skin there pulled taunt beneath his lips. "I'm still mad with you for ending that phone call. I wasn't finished talking."

"You don't need to talk," he murmured, his voice muffled as he spoke into her neck. He moved his body down a little, lavishing his affections and lips on her collarbone instead. Jane let her head fall back into a proper position, her neck becoming a little sore from the strain. Bruce bit the area just above her collarbone and Jane's eyes flew open at the tiny amount of pain. Looking down as best she could, she saw him lifting his head to give her a smile. "Sorry. Did that hurt?"

Growling, Jane glared at him as he rose, heading upwards as his body dragged across hers. Her tank top became eschewed, their chests bumping together as thy breathed in an uneven rhythm. "Not now, Bruce," she begged even though _dammit_ she _wanted_ him. "It's almost noon and we haven't eaten yet." Fuck. Her protests sounded weak even to her own ears. "Besides, what would Alfred think? How about we wait until he leaves or something so we don't have to…hold back," Jane gave him a grin, knowing that she had him there. Bruce loved to hear her, and truth be told she didn't have the strength to hold back the cries of pleasure that always escaped when dealing with him.

He thought about her proposition, and Jane's stomach rumbled a bit. She was fucking _starving_ and knew that Alfred probably had something fucking delicious prepared for them. Alfred was a fantastic cook. To help drive home her argument, she tilted her hips up and grinded them against his, and then snaked a leg to lie between his. Running her knee along the inseam of his pants just before letting it go over the hardening ridge, she smiled coyly at him. "I'll make it worth your while."

Bruce glowered down at her. "You keep that up and I'll take you right now, not later." His words sent another shock down her spine and she innocently let her leg slide down the carpet away from the bulge. Sighing, Bruce frowned like he wasn't all too pleased with what he was about to say. "Fine. Your stomach's grumblings would ruin the mood anyway."

"Hey!" Jane snapped back defensively as he pushed himself up off of her by his hands a little below where hers were. She brought her arms back down and pressed against his chest in a weak shove. "The only reason I'm starving here is because of you in the first place. I would have already eaten and everything if you hadn't come in the damn tub – which I didn't even invite you to join in the first place. This is all _your_ fault."

"Just like a woman," Bruce shook his head as he stood up, allowing Jane to stand as well. Looking down, she straightened her tank top and then turned to go to the dresser to get a tee shirt. "Always blaming it on the man. You didn't seem to complain when I joined you." He crossed his arms over his chest, watching her through the mirror as she rummaged through a drawer before pulling out a black fitted v-neck tee. "Here you are, trying to match me and everything."

Jane rolled her eyes, closing the drawer with her knee while running her fingers through her blonde waves. She had cut it a little so that it was back at her shoulders, and the weight taken off caused it to go back into a slight wave. "Shut up," she replied back, not really knowing what else to say. Turning towards the door, she bypassed Bruce and made sure to bring her elbow across before jamming it into his stomach. Satisfied with the grunt he gave, she smiled smugly and continued walking out and into the hallway.

Alfred was standing in the large kitchen when Jane entered, doing…well, whatever it was whenever she or Bruce were away. He was singing a show-tune to himself, his lips moving every now and then lowly so that she couldn't really make out what he was saying. The penthouse they were in was absolutely _huge_. A substantial space for mid-city Gotham. Two stories with a large balcony connected to the first floor and private roof access. Jane still couldn't get over the sheer size and often wondered how much it cost. Knowing that she didn't _really_ want to know, she never questioned it, and just merely went with the flow. She wasn't too worried about leeching off of Bruce now, having realized that he had more than enough money to deal with. Even with his huge, considerable donations to local organizations and charities, Bruce still had cash flowing out from the pores of his skin. Strange it was, knowing someone that had money to burn. Especially when she had come from the part of town that she did.

How Bruce spent his money didn't matter much to her. She didn't want – or need – to control every aspect of his life. It wasn't as if he was funding a terrorist program or something like that. It wasn't her money, and she didn't give a fuck as to how he wanted to spend it. However, she wouldn't go to those fancy, expensive restaurants she had practically preached against before. Paying that much for a little meal was flat out fucking stupid, and she would have no part in _that _aspect of his lifestyle.

"Hi, Alfred," she said with a smile, making her presence known in the kitchen as she stepped closer to where he stood over the stove. Leaning on the counter, she watched as he diced a few potatoes before dropping them into a creamy looking white soup. His head turned to face her, and he answered her smile with one of his own, the lines around his face creasing deeper. "What are you cooking?"

"Just a bit of potato soup. Normally, Master Wayne doesn't stay for lunch. He's always out and about, but I think it would be good from him to stay. For today, at least." Alfred focused his attention back on the large pot, expertly wielding the thin, sharp knife held in his weathered hands. "Potato soup used to be his favorite as a child."

"That's nice," Jane propped her chin in her palm, continuing to watch as Alfred peeled the last of the potatoes. "I would offer my help, but I'm a fucking terrible cook. I used to burn Ramen at my old place." She chuckled a bit at the memory and then stood straight, dropping her arm.

"Well, there's always time to learn. Come over and I'll show you. Everyone needs to know how to cook something so they don't starve to death. Lord knows I've tried to teach Master Wayne before." Alfred sighed and waved his hand for Jane to step closer.

"He knows how to cook pancakes." Jane said as she walked closer to the large stainless steel stove. Alfred gave her a pointed look, handing her a large wooden stirring spoon, which she took.

"And that's the only thing. Okay, now, here's what you do. Soup is a basic thing to cook – especially potato soup. It isn't hard at all, and I've already done most of it for you. Just stir it until the chunks spread around a bit. There, there, that's good – not so fast! _Slowly_. You don't want to slosh the mixture everywhere."

"I feel like I'm brewing a potion." Jane chuckled, following Alfred's directions. She kept her face out of the light steam coming up, stomach grumbling exceptionally loudly as she smelled the mouthwatering scent coming from it. "What's the pan for?"

Alfred picked up a large, wide, and flat-bottomed silvery pan, holding it up for Jane to examine. "This is called a _saucepan_. In this, we're going to fry a bit of bacon to go into the soup." He placed it on one of the circles and twisted a knob. "Okay, now remove the spoon and put the cover back over it, and then go the refrigerator. On the side door there should be a package of bacon strips." Jane gently tapped the wooden spoon on the edge before setting it down on the counter, and then placed the clear lid over the huge pot. Going to the massive refrigerator, it took her a moment or two to finally see what Alfred was talking about.

Grabbing the clear package, she brought it back over to him just as Bruce walked in. "Oh, look at Jane. Trying to train her into being a good little housewife, are you Alfred?" He smirked at her and she stuck her tongue out at him.

"All right, tear it open and then lay a few pieces flat on the pan," he said before turning to Bruce. "Master Wayne, I suggest you leave her be or else she'll poison your food. Or, maybe I'll poison it instead. Seeing as how you just barely know the difference between _salt_ and _pepper_, I would keep my mouth shut if I were you."

"You're supposed to be on my side."

"Sorry that I'm extremely charming and what not." Jane smiled at him. "How many pieces do I need to put on here?"

"That's enough. Good job. In a few moments, you'll need to flip them over and then we'll continue cooking the rest."

* * *

Bruce didn't know what he would have done if Alfred hadn't left when he did.

The moment caught him off guard. He, having grown tired of watching the same news repeat itself on Gotham's network, had come into the kitchen to grab a drink before going back and finding something more interesting to watch. What he didn't expect to find in the kitchen, however, was Jane standing over the stove stirring into a small pot. Ever since Alfred had taught her how to make soup two days ago, Jane had become adamant to help him cook every meal.

Some of her hair had fallen out of her standard ponytail, the wisps waving around her face before she lifted a hand to push them back and tuck them behind her ear. The plaid button-down she wore was left unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the black tank she wore underneath sprinkled white - something like flour or sugar. Long legs clad in a worn-in pair of jeans, she looked out of place standing in the high-tech kitchen, yet at the same time, and she looked like she _belonged_ there just like the stove or large island in the center of the room. A part of it, almost, just like she looked when she was in any other room in the house.

Standing at the door, Bruce watched from slightly behind her as she continued to stir something. She was murmuring something to herself, her head turning every now and then to look at the clock on the wall or at the open cookbook at her side. A cartoon of eggs was open, a jug of milk sitting next to a bag of flour. He couldn't tell what she was cooking from here, and didn't know if it would end in disaster or something only slightly better. Jane, true to her word, wasn't exactly the best cook. She hadn't dared cook by herself yet, preferring to have Alfred there to coach her along, but it seemed as if she had grown a little more confident in herself to actually do it on her own now.

"Are you going to come up here and help me or just stand there like a fucking creeper?" Jane asked without turning around. Bruce's eyebrows shot up in surprise. How did she know he was there? Her senses and perception were getting fairly sharp. He had yet to start teaching her what he learned in the League of Shadows, but he knew without a doubt that she would be able to learn easily. She wouldn't be as strong as him. But she would be quick. Quicker, even, than he was, especially with her light build and experience. He had no doubts that she would succeed well.

Bruce walked up behind her, lacing his arms around her stomach and bending to rest his head on her shoulder. "Maybe I like standing there like a creeper...as long as I'm creeping on you." He said, looking down to watch her stir what looked to be…mashed potatoes? "What are you making?"

"Mashed potatoes." She replied. "Don't act like you didn't know what it was." She bumped her hips against his playfully. Bruce growled, moving his hands so that he grasped her hips, and pulled her tightly against him. Her back arched a little, and she let out a little gasp when she felt his arousal.

"_This_ is what the sight of you cooking does to me." He purred into her ear as he nuzzled her neck. "Well, it's what the sight of you does to me anyway." Bruce drew his hands up a little, then pushed them forward and tucked them around the flaps of her shirt, putting them against the exposed skin of her hips. He pushed his hands up again, exposing more skin to his touch as he grabbed her firmly. "Alfred's gone…"

"Bruce, I'm _cooking_," she whined, but didn't sound too protesting. She tried to push her hips against him to make him back away from her, making her body bend forward even more. Bruce responded to her movements by pushing his own hips harder against hers, causing a delicious pleasure along the front of his waist. "_Bruce._" He lifted one hand off of her waist and reached forward to turn the knob for the stovetop down. When he brought his hand back, he let it go to her neck instead, placing it softly there as he lightly pushed it to the side. Her head tilted with him, exposing the length of her neck to him. "I want to _cook_."

"Cooking can wait a little longer." He pressed his lips to her tender skin. One would think that it wouldn't be as soft since she didn't care too much about it. Most of the women he knew used moisturizers and tons of make-up products and lotions to make their skin luxurious. Jane's wasn't the softest or smoothest he had ever touched, but he actually liked it more. He didn't have worry about his grip slipping on lotioned skin when he ran his hands along her body, didn't have to smell the awful floral perfumes that some of them had. "We won't be too long anyway."

"Well," she said disappointedly, though her voice came out as a sigh as he gave her an open-mouthed kiss just below her ear. He smirked; a little arrogant that he had found her favorite spots so easily. Jane was especially tender around her hips, the lower portion of her back, and the underside of her jaw. He loved the little purrs she made when he found a spot especially thin. "I hope that it takes long enough."

Bruce chuckled, glad that she was as eager as he was. He couldn't get enough of her. Once he had her, she seemed to never leave his mind. He always wanted to _touch _her, to feel her press against him. To have her wrapped around him, close enough that no one would be able to tell where one of them began and the other ended. Her smell, her taste, her laugh, her smile, her _everything_ – he wanted to carry it all with him everywhere. Bruce wanted to be the only one to get the privilege of seeing her at her worst and at her best. He would accept her either way – she could throw drinks at him and he would still want her around him. Everything, the good and the bad, he wanted, as long as she was there with him.

Her neck stretched for him, Bruce took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as her delicious scent took control of him, rendering him useless now. He would jump off a cliff if she asked right now. That was the effect she had on him. He trusted her completely and fully, something that he had never done before with a woman he took as a lover. Jane exuded strength and yet, at the same time, a tenderness that he had been special enough to see. And he was glad. While she was beautiful no matter what, Bruce found himself intrigued whenever she did allow herself to open up in front of him. Few people had a chance to see the hardened, guarded woman like that, and he felt honored that she trusted him enough to show him her other side.

He pressed his lips to her skin, whiffing in another deep breath. Jane had a…icy and cool taste to her, if that made sense. She was refreshing, cool to kiss with the ferocity of a blizzard if need be. He would freeze with her if he wasn't careful, but then again, he _wanted_ to freeze with her. If she was there, he would be perfectly content. Bruce had grown to depend on his little minx for things far more important than a simple lover. No, she had become his confidant, one of the very, very minuscule number of people he allowed to get to know the _real_ Bruce Wayne.

"Bruce," she said, breaking his concentration momentarily. "Can you hurry up?" Bruce smiled at her straightforwardness. The fact that she was just as eager to have him as he was to her made him even _more_ longing for her touch. She was going to drive him mad. He pulled her backwards, moving the two of them as he walked to the island in the center. Spinning the two of them around, they switched positions: she, now with her back to the island, facing Bruce, was standing where he had been while Bruce stood in front of her, his hands still clung to her exposed waist. She watched him carefully, a bit warily almost, but he knew that she trusted him just as much as he trusted her. It was what made their relationship so special. He never had to worry about anything with her. Jane was always willing to match him stride for stride. Sometimes, she even tried to race ahead in order to prove herself to him somehow. Not that she needed to. He already knew that she was extremely, extremely valuable.

Picking her up easily, he set her on the counter before dragging her so that she was halfway hanging off. Her legs dangled downwards, and she let them slide open as Bruce stepped between them. They were at perfect level now – both of them meeting each other's eyes easily as their lips met in a long, heated kiss. With his hands gliding upwards, he grasped the flaps of her over shirt and slowly pulled it off. Bruce let the fabric drag the sleeves down as slowly as possible, his hands curling around her back as he let the garment drop once her arms were completely free. She moved to take her tank top off when he stopped her, grasping her wrists and putting them to the island beside her legs.

"Let _me_ do the undressing," he growled as he pressed his forehead to hers. She narrowed his eyes, and opened her lips to protest when he attacked her lips again in a searing kiss. While he appreciated her eagerness, he wanted to take his time right now. Draw this out much like the first time they had sex. It was much more…satisfying. Showing her just how much she meant to him was something important to him. He did not have ways with words like a lot of men did, wasn't able to give her poetic little speeches about her beauty and grace and strength. All he had was himself. His own body and the man who lived inside it. That was all he had to give that he knew she would appreciate. Unlike others, Jane cared little for power and wealth, having not been raised like others in his society and learning to place importance on it. Her ideas about it were delightfully invigorating to him, the strangeness of some of her ways nice and _homely _when compared to other women he knew.

Bruce knew Jane would never be bought with diamonds, pearls, nice clothes, or even be impressed with huge homes like this enough to do anything that she didn't want to do. She wasn't that type of woman, and he wanted none other than she. What she appreciated, he had learned, were the little things. The fact that he had bought her the Garth Brook's _Ultimate Hits _collection after she admitted that she loved his music growing up had moved her nearly to tears, which had caught him more than off guard. After she said her favorite animal were Red-Tailed Hawks, he had brought her back a book on them, which she had thanked him relentlessly and immediately began devouring it. Those little things? Those were the things that she appreciated the most.

Bruce let his fingers lighten on her hands, slowly pushing them up her bare arms, goose bumps prickling on her skin as he dragged along, stretching out the moment as long as possible. When he got to her shoulders, he made sure to curve his touch inwards to her collarbone, allowing his nails to slightly scratch her skin there. She was extremely sensitive there as well and when he did this Jane let out a tiny hiss between her teeth. Smiling, Bruce drew his hands downwards at a snail-like pace. His own eyes watched his movements as he circled them at her waist upwards to the pushed-up hem of her shirt. He brushed the tips of his fingers against her stomach before curling them in to grip the fabric of the tank top. And, just as slowly as he had touched her, he pulled it up and over her head, Jane's arms rising above her head to help him.

Holding the garment in his hand, he dropped it to the floor on his right. Jane now sat on the island in her jeans, socks, and one of the black lacey bras he had eagerly purchased for her. Noticing this, he smiled broadly, and put one of his hands on the right strap. "I see you liked my gifts," he noted, tucking his index finger underneath the band, tugging it up a little. "It looks beautiful on you." Bruce sighed, and put his other hand on her shoulder, mirroring the actions of before by lacing a single finger underneath the strap. Looking back up at her grey-blue eyes, he said, "then again, anything and everything looks beautiful on you."

Jane drew in a shaky breath at his words as they slid over her skin like his hands. Bruce followed the strap to the back, and then placed his touch on the clasp. Fingers running along the ridge of her spine a little, he managed to successfully undo the bra. He held on to the straps again and used those to leisurely pull the bra off by letting the bra almost fall down her arms, stopped and slowed by his grip.

"I'm guessing I won't be eating my mashed potatoes soon," she sighed like she was angry. But when Bruce looked up as he dropped the bra on top of the tank top, he saw that yearning fire burning in her eyes. The flush on her chest and cheeks also gave her away clearly. She loved the lavishing of attentions on her body, clearly.

"Once we're finished, I _may_ let you go back to your cooking." He said with an air of dismissal, putting his hands back on her waist. Drawing little circles on her back with his fingers curled around her sides, he watched her as she slid her eyes closed, lips parting as she took in yet another unsteady breath. "That is, if I can resist the urge to take you again once you stand back at the stove." Bruce's fingers worked at her button and then her zipper. Trying to take his time – which was becoming increasingly hard as he exposed more and more of her skin – he abandoned her jeans now for her hips, picking her up again. Jane gripped his arms when she realized he wasn't setting her on the ground, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his, faking a kiss and instead placing one on his cheek. Laughing when he growled playfully, she shrieked when he play-dropped her, letting go of her thighs for an instant and letting her slide down his chest before holding her again. "_I'm_ doing the teasing here," Bruce rumbled against her lips as he managed to catch hers. Jane put her hands on the sides of his face, cupping his cheeks in her palms to hold him there with her. She let her thumbs draw swipes like he did on her hips, and Bruce knew that he couldn't wait for the bedroom. Instead, he stopped at the rug in the den, dropping to his knees before lowering her to the floor.

The rug was beige and cushiony – soft enough to not hurt her back as she lay before him. Jane watched as Bruce shed his own shirt, tossing it behind him before he put his hands at the top of her jeans again. Lifting her hips as he began to tug, Bruce scolded himself for moving too fast, and immediately slowed the pace that he took off her jeans. He pushed them to the side and then took off her socks. Now completely naked before him, Bruce decided it was time to turn his attentions to her body instead of undressing it.

"Close your eyes," he said softly and she quirked an eyebrow at the order. "Please?" He smiled a little, bending forward to place two fingers over her lids, closing them with a gentle touch. Almost not touching them at all, more like guiding them. Jane kept them closed, and her chest rose with a breath in anticipation at his next moves. The curiosity was probably burning in her, and Bruce wondered how long he had before she attempted to take charge of the situation. "I'm going to ask you to just lie still, okay? Can you do that Jane?"

Instead of answering, Jane nodded. "Good," Bruce whispered, "just trust me." He ghosted his fingers over her lashes and her eyelids, touching the thin and soft skin gently so he wouldn't hurt her. Jane had such beautiful eyes – grey and blue at the same time, sharp and aware of any little thing that went on around her. Even though he couldn't see them now, he could still feel the fluttering sensation underneath his fingertips. Her eyes betrayed little unless she wanted them to. If she didn't want you to know what she was thinking, Jane would throw up that wall behind her eyes, and they would become hard, threatening, and intense. But those times when her wall was lowered, they would tell of any little emotion she was feeling. Pleasure, lust, happiness, sadness, thoughtfulness, adoration. Anything and everything could be read clearly though her orbs.

He let his fingers roam down her nose, the ever so tiny ridge in the middle from where it had been broken long ago. She hadn't told him that story, yet. Had probably forgotten about it. Bruce didn't know himself how many times his own nose had been broken over the years. There were far too many stories, far too many circumstances where it had happened to remember every instance. He brushed his touch against her lips. She parted them reflexively, her breath brushing against his fingers and he smiled as she inhaled sweetly, as if she, too, were treasuring each and every gentle sensation Bruce was giving her.

He graced her cheeks next, and then the spanse of her forehead before he let himself venture down the length of her neck. Gods, she was beautiful. So strong, her muscles tensing when he let his hands wash over her stomach randomly. So strong. So full of inner strength that it made him weak just thinking about it. Everything she had been through…and she still stood by him. Jane had to know that attaching herself to Bruce would only lead her down a darker path, but still she stayed.

Bruce took her breasts in his hands. They were small, she having burned most body fat with her intense training. That was what he also loved about Jane's body. Though she worked out all the time, she focused on things other than strength training. She knew that she would never be stronger than a man, so being a smart fighter, she put all of her attention into things that would help her far more. Flexibility, agility, and dexterity. Sure, she was strong and could pack powerful hits and kicks, but her true power lay behind the fact that she could move much faster than her opponents, and could bend into uncomfortable positions if need be.

When be brushed his thumbs over the tips, she let out a delicious whimper, catching Bruce off guard a little. Looking up, he saw that her lips were parted more. Her entire body was flushed now that he was snapped out of his focus. Smirking a bit smugly, he let his thumbs run across her again, this time putting more pressure behind it. Her breasts were small, yes, but hey, they were still there. They fit in his hands easily, much like the gentle flare of her hips and the curve of her thighs. Even though she was muscular and slender, she still had traces of curves.

Lowering himself, he removed one of his hands and gave her a small kiss on the underside. Moving as slowly as his hands, he drew out her anticipation before finally letting his tongue flick her tip. Jane's arms lifted to grab onto his head, but he caught her wrists. Bruce pushed them down by her side and held them there, holding her to the ground so that she couldn't move them. Jane moaned and he felt her hips lift to grind against his. "Eager, are we?" He spoke against her breast, moving to continue his ministrations on her other breast as well. "Don't worry Jane – you'll be satisfied soon enough."

His pants were becoming painfully tight. He sat back on his knees, looking down at her flushed body, brought to the brink of insanity due to lack of release. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his pants, he shifted around until he got them fully off. Bruce tossed them somewhere, and then lay down beside her. Head propped up by his palm and his elbow on the ground, he lay on his side as his free hand began drawing large circles on her stomach around her belly button. He watched her face, sensing her reactions as he let his hand dip lower and lower, creating bigger and bigger swipes with his fingertips. He kept brushing against her tender side hips and made sure to press against those a bit harder. Jane seemed to always like when he did that.

Finally, he let his finger brush against the top of her folds, and Jane gasped loudly, eyes squeezing tightly as she struggled not to open them, following his orders directly. He smiled and slowed his pace. When he brushed against her folds again, he let his fingers slip downwards a little before pulling them back out. He was teasing her and she knew that. He had always been a teaser for some reason. Bruce made another circle, but this time he didn't complete it, letting his hand stay between her thighs.

Jane mewled and she tightened her legs around him. Her hands formed fists at her sides, back arching slightly as he ran two of his fingers up and down her inside length. She was more than wet. Ready for him to take her and finally push her over that edge and into the pleasure that she had grown to crave as well. Her breath came in quick little bursts, pants as he toyed with her nub a little before dipping his hand deeper and deeper. He let them dip inside of her, her tightness clenching around him so much that it made him harden even _more_ if that was possible. He was so ready to be inside her. Having to control himself, though, he didn't move. He wasn't going to let her fall over the edge yet, but he was going to bring her to nearer and nearer to the brink.

Pulling his fingers out, he drew them upwards to play with her apex a little more, and then put the downwards. He curled his fingers inside of her, brushing against the spot that made her cry out in sheer ecstasy. When he looked back at her, Jane was arched upwards, head turned to the side facing away from him. He could see that her eyes were closed tightly and her mouth was dropped open as the haziness of a pleasure induced frenzy washed over her. Her hips moved a little against him, and he didn't stop her as they both worked to bring her to the point she desperately sought.

When he felt her tighten even more around him, he pulled his hand out of her completely, laying it against her stomach. Her head snapped over to him, eyes angrily glaring at him. Cockily, he grinned at her, and then pushed off the ground to lay completely on her before putting his hands on either side of her head to pick his heavy body weight off of her. He pressed his lips to hers, kissing her slowly and patiently even though all he wanted to do was bury inside of her recklessly.

He felt her legs part underneath his, and he was now in-between her. Pressed against her slick thighs and center. He moved his left hand down to wrap around the back of her left knee, and he hoisted it up, letting her leg fall over the crook of his elbow. Thankfully, she wasn't uncomfortable or anything at the position, her leg folding against his arm as he spread her open a bit more for him. As he held her leg there, she opened her other a little more, allowing him easy access.

Bruce pushed himself inside of her slowly, eyes closing as he breathed heavily, trying frantically to maintain his control that he had kept for so long. Her walls clenched around him tightly, snugly pulling her in deeper and deeper into her. Out of all of the lovers he had had – which wasn't a lot when compared to his reputation – she felt the best wrapped around him. Tight, constricting, warm and wet. When he was inside of her, the only thing that was on his mind was her and him. They were the only ones that mattered. Just the two of them, placed together in a bubble as they joined and fit perfectly together. Bruce felt as if they were made for each other. To join together for the rest of their lives like this, bringing each other to bliss and happiness like nothing else.

He took in a deep breath through his noise as he flexed his hips, pushing further and further into him. Her hands were on his shoulders, and she tilted her hips upwards to accept whatever he gave her. When he was finally sheathed fully inside of her, he groaned, dropping his forehead to hers. Jane used her inner muscles to squeeze him, eliciting a growl from him as she snickered. He stretched her fully and as he drew back his hips, she moaned a little. Slowly, Bruce began thrusting, long, drawn-out strokes as he grasped at what little control he had left.

Jane dropped her arms to his back, trying to push him in at a more hurried pace than what he was willing to go at the moment. Though he was not caressing her body anymore, he still wanted her to know how much she meant to him. How thankful he was that she had stuck by him, eagerly taking some of that darkness out of his life with her light. "No," Bruce growled, and her leg fell to the ground beside his hip as he reached around him to grasp her hands. "Don't rush." Holding her hands, he took them and put them above her head. Bruce pushed her arms upwards, threading his fingers through hers as his body stretched across hers and hers tightened against his. Every part of them was touching now, lines blurred as Bruce moved against her, weighing her down with his weight and she holding on to him with her legs wrapped around his. Where one ended and the other began was a mystery. Even their breath was synchronized – each breathing in what the other breathed out as if they simply couldn't get enough of each other.

Bruce moved slowly, dragging out this perfect moment even though he wanted to bring her to the orgasm he could feel building inside of her. She squeezed around him more. Leaning down, he nibbled at the skin under her ear, and she threw her head back. She arched into him, chest bumping against his as she gasped. Without looking, Bruce knew that her eyes are closed, her mouth hanging open in an "o" as he swirled his tongue against her skin. She was close – he could feel it. He could feel it as he adjusted his hips and pace, his thrusts burying himself deeper in her as he pushed forward with longer strokes. He touched that part deep inside her, evident by her mewl and low whine that emit when he drew back and hit it again. He can hear her breathing, panting mixed with his. She was not screaming, but for some reason the little noises and sounds that escape her lips along with the throaty hums are just as erotic - if not more so.

"_Bruce_," she whispered, the sound thick as she broke off into a low sigh. He closed his eyes at his name coming from her lips, moving his forehead to rest against hers as he pressed their lips together. He tightened his hands on hers, and thrusted a little harder. The control he had was slowly slipping, but it didn't matter, because with one last thrust of his hips, Jane threw her head back again, her fingers and walls clamping around him tightly as she let off a long whine. Bruce's hips stilled and he almost cursed at how tightly she fits around him, her muscles squeezing and squeezing just before she released. Jane fell over the edge into bliss, and Bruce couldn't hold off his own release any longer now that she met her own. With a growl, he thrusted one last time, prolonging her pleasure as well as bringing about his own.

He growled deeply in his throat, whole body freezing as he actually saw starts in his eyes. Gasping for breath like he had just ran a marathon, he pulled out of her, their sweat-covered chests slipping against each other as he rolled over onto his back. Halfway lying on the rug and halfway lying on the wooden floor, he took in a few deep breaths, totally spent now that he finally reached his release. Jane mumbled something beside him, turning onto her side facing him. Bruce moved his head so he met her eyes, and she smiled lazily at him, reaching forward to lay a palm against his slick chest.

"No one has ever paid that much attention to me," she said as he turns on his side as well. The comment, though he already knew it beforehand, struck him with both anger as well as satisfaction. Bruce was glad that he had been the first to show her just how much she's worth, yet at the same time disappointed that she never had anyone around to fully appreciate her. The mixture of emotions confused even himself, but he's distracted by the fact that she shifted closer to him. Jane's now lying inches away, their faces almost touching as they look each other in the eyes. "Thank you for this incredibly cheesy moment."

He lifted his own hand to push away a few strands of hair off her face before dropping it down across her shoulder and to her waist where he curled it. "I'm glad that Alfred left," he whispered to her, not really knowing what else to say.

Chuckling a little, she smiled at him. "Me too."

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**Shifting POVs is so much fun. Sometimes, Jane's head is a little tiring. Love the girl, but it's refreshing seeing from other people's eyes.**

**LEAVE ME LOVE whilst I shamelessly beg :D**

**I know it's a little boring now, but it'll eventually pick up. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I think it's time to check in on Rebecca, no? See you at the bottom! :)**

**Oh, Medisha and I have decided to "f*ck" the schedule. Just in case you didn't know already.**

* * *

Rebecca woke to a grating noise, one that made her scrunch her face up at the unpleasantness of it as and made her groan a little. The sound pounded at her ears and even made her eyes hurt until it blessedly stopped. She was lying facing away from the door, and she was far too tired to turn over and see who had entered her little 'cell.' The fog that had subdued her mind was mostly gone, her senses slowly coming to term as she reluctantly woke from her slumber. Sleep came by so little here in this vague place that when she did get a chance to finally drift off into unconsciousness, she often did so deeply. Being woken up from that kind of sleep was definitely not pleasant and she resisted the urge to roll over and curse whoever had come in so rudely and _loudly_.

"Wake up," a male voice said, harsh and bitter as she felt the toe of a boot probe the middle of her spine. He pushed her a little more, and Rebecca lazily rolled over onto her stomach. Her mind wasn't clear enough yet, still a little vague, but for some reason her body refused to cooperate with her. Not that she wanted to get up and walk with the stranger anyway, but still. To stay alive she had to be smart and outright refusing a direct order from _anyone_ not attached to the floor was probably not a good way to do that. "Hey! Didn't you hear me?" Whoever was speaking had a weird accent. Southern, maybe? Rebecca didn't know nor did she really care. Her head lolled to the side, eyes still closed as she finally faced her guest. "_Get up_."

Rebecca took in a deep breath, her throat parched dry as she tried to clear it so she could speak. How long had it been since she had spoken? "I'm attached to the floor." She spoke in a raspy tone as if she had a cold. Did she have a cold? She wasn't really cold right now, but she could still be sick, right? Did people who have colds stay cold all the time? Who was she talking to, again? Who had come into her room? It certainly wasn't Eddie, nor did it sound like Joker or Harley or even Alex. Opening her eyes slowly, it took her a while to make out the angular face back-lighted by the orange glow of the hallway past the steel door. The light above did nothing to help her make out his identity – not that she truly cared to know who he was. Everyone here, it seemed, was crazy. Possibly even her. She very well could be. Was she crazy? What _was_ crazy, exactly? Did anyone even know?

The man's eyes grazed over to her ankle. Cursing under his breath, he shifted on his knees, fingers brushing against her sores cruelly and making her face contort in a mask of pain as he roughly handled her painfully tender ankle. His nails scratched at her gashes, re-opening dried and bloodied cuts. Why was she so sore down there? Why was she tied to the floor in the first place? It wasn't as if she was going to get past the door if she even tried to. Besides, the man with the face paint and his girlfriend were out there, waiting anxiously for their chance to inflict unspeakable horrors on her.

Well, she didn't know that for sure. But she could only imagine. Rebecca had little to do here anyway.

"All right." The man said, knocking her ankle to the side as he stood. "You can get up now. Come on. _Get up_." He toed her stomach this time, his thick boots hard against her soft stomach. Rebecca lifted herself onto her hands weakly, rolling over onto her knees in a crawling-style position. The small movements exhausted her, and her head hung between her arms as she tried to calm her breathing. Falling back more than pushing forward, she landed on her heels. Feeling as if she was lifting hundreds of pounds on her shoulders, Rebecca managed to somehow stand on shaky legs, eagerly reaching out to clasp onto the stranger before her. He batted her arms away cruelly, and she stumbled to the right. Her ankle and legs were screaming in protest, knowing that they couldn't withstand supporting her minute body weight any longer. She fell, hands pawing at the concrete as she cried out at the impact.

"I can't do it." She half-pleaded to the man, turning her face upwards to look at him, searching for any signs of sympathy or humanity in his hardened features that were fuzzed by a full beard. "Please…help me. I-I can't do it by myself." Rebecca drew in a breath, trying to hold back the tears of humiliation as she man huffed, appearing angry. He bent down nonetheless, grabbing onto her arms roughly and pulled her up. He supported her body weight, and she began to walk forward to the door a little, the man moving to stand behind her. His hands were still on her upper arms, and Rebecca suddenly felt very much like a toddler learning how to walk as the two of them awkwardly went out into the hall.

Her ankle was bleeding, and her bare feet slipped on the blood, sending her into a collision with the man's chest. "Dammit!" He hollered and pushed her onto the ground. Rebecca cried out as her head smacked against the hard and unforgiving surface of the floor, her hand lifting to paw at is as the man glared down at her angrily. "You can fucking _crawl_ all the way there!"

"Please…" she begged again, "don't leave me here alone. Please don't leave me with them!" She cried out for him, knowing that even though he seemed to despise her, it was better than to be at the mercy of Joker and Harley. The man drew back a leg, looking at her with disgust, and landed a solid hard kick at her side. She choked out a scream. Eyes screwing shut, she curled in on herself as he kicked her again, her body rolling forward so that she was lying on her stomach. Rebecca began to cry, too lost within the humiliation and pity at not being able to move as he continued to kick her. "Please…stop…" She tearfully pleaded into the ground, noise muffled by her sobs that echoed in the empty hallway.

"Dean! What do you think you are doing with her?" Another male voice demanded from down the hall somewhere. Rebecca sobbed into her arm, trying to push herself up and away from the man's kicks. "She's Eddie's and Eddie's _only_. You can't hurt her like that - you can't hurt her at _all_. Now, where are you going with her and why?"

"Uh, Alex, I uh…" her stranger – Dean – mumbled, and Rebecca deduced that Alex was his superior, and someone to be afraid of. For if Dean was scared of him, there must be something about this other man. She didn't care though. She was just glad the beating had stopped. Her side was painfully sore and she swallowed down a bit of bile as she sucked in a ragged breath. Oh gods, she was in so much pain… "Eddie wanted her upstairs for something. He told me to come down and get her. I was just taking her up there is all."

"And so you took it upon yourself to beat her into a bloody pulp beforehand?" Alex's voice was nearer, and Rebecca shifted her chin upwards, looking out from underneath her lashes and above her arm. Her savior was exceedingly tall, broad-shouldered and looked every bit as cold as he sounded. Blonde hair and blue eyes did nothing to diminish the fact that he was hard and cruel. That she could gain just by looking at his features, set into strong and tense lines. "Look at her – she's bleeding and probably bruised everywhere now. Are you really that stupid, Dean? You know how attached Eddie is to her."

"I'm sorry. You're, uh, right. I didn't mean to hurt her. She just…"

"What? She just _what_? She was tied up and weakened severely. She's practically starved, hasn't had a drink in days, and is under the influence of whatever fucked up shit Eddie is doing. What could she possibly do to threaten you enough that you would throw her onto the ground and begin kicking her like that?" Alex crossed his arms over his large chest. Rebecca sucked in a breath, but it hurt too much and she moaned, her head dropping back and eyes closing in the darkness of her self-made cocoon. "I thought Joker would find some good men, but apparently he fucked up when he found you. Threatened? By _her_?" Alex chuckled, but Rebecca knew that it wasn't a humorous one. The man probably never laughed or cracked a joke. When was the last time she had heard a joke? "I'd hate to see how you would fare against someone that is a just a _little_ intimidating."

A shot rang out, echoing in the hall and Rebecca jumped. Somewhere out of her eyesight, someone fell to the ground, probably in a tangled dead heap on the floor. Two hands pushed her onto her back, and Rebecca blinked, eyes opening to see Alex wrap his arms underneath her knees and stomach, hauling her up easily. So, he must have killed Dean. Rebecca should feel horror at the fact that he had killed him so effortlessly and that he didn't even seem fazed by the action. Surprisingly she couldn't find it within herself to care. Instead, she was just grateful that she was being carried now instead of being forced to move when she didn't have the strength to do it. She let her head fall against his chest, which wasn't any softer than the floor in her cell.

Eyes sliding closed, Rebecca drew in a few breaths as she tried to stay awake. It was hard. She was so tired for some reason, and her headache felt as if it were getting worse. "Thank you," she said, suddenly feeling the need to thank Alex for taking her away from the beating Dead was giving her. Alex looked down at Rebecca, but her eyes were still shut so she missed the glance.

"I wouldn't thank me yet," he grumbled as he began walking up some steps. "I'm sure Eddie's got something cooked up for you. Trust me – I didn't rescue you back there for your benefit. I plan on keeping you alive for a certain person. Eddie's already claimed you, and I'll let him have his fun first but he won't kill you until I say that it's okay. Not too sure if that's a good thing for you though. Because I'll have you next, and believe me when I say that you will probably beg for death."

"Why?" She asked, unfazed by his words. "Why would I beg for death?" Why wasn't she horrified that they were discussing her death so easily?

"Because someone that I hate cares a lot for you. You'll suffer and they'll suffer with you." He stated plainly, and Rebecca shrugged in his shoulders.

"I don't care about your motivations. I just care that for now I'm relieved of the pain of being beaten. Even if it's only temporary – future pain is better than present pain." She lolled her head on his shoulder, sighing as he began walking levelly again. They were on the first floor of the house or wherever they were staying in now. "What's Eddie going to do now? He's already…done something." She scrunched her eyebrows, trying to think. Had he done something? Most certainly. She remembered his face and then the blackness of erased memory before waking up in her cell again. What he did though, she didn't know. That part was gone from her mind.

Alex shrugged. "It's none of my business what Eddie does to you as long as he doesn't kill you. I tend to stay away from him and the others unless I have to be involved." Rebecca sighed, tucking her arms in between her knees. So tired...

A door was kicked open, and Rebecca opened her eyes to see that they were in what appeared to be a bedroom. A tiny cot in one corner with the sheets ruffled, partially-broken dresser and broken mirror in the other. A wooden chair in the center with latches and hoops and ropes attached to it next to a machine and IV dispersal. "I thought I sent Dean to get her…?" Eddie asked in a confused tone as Alex set Rebecca down in the chair. She slipped her arms through the hoops and her feet through the ones attached to the leg. Wait, why did she do that? Jumbled, she looked down at her arms through the leather bindings, then down to her ankles. Oh, she was still bleeding. Was it cold in here?

"He's been taken care of." Alex said plainly, and Rebecca looked up at him. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left her and Eddie in the room. The door closed as he left, and Rebecca's head dropped to the side, resting it against the chair post. Eddie shook his head, mumbling something under his breath and he clasped his hands behind his back. Stepping forward, he came closer to Rebecca until he stood directly before her. He bent down, lifting a hand to grasp her chin roughly. Eddie pulled her head so that she faced him, and turned it to either side, examining her.

"You may have a concussion," he growled in disgust. Eddie pushed her away, her head snapping to the side with his force as she laid it back on the chair. She let her eyes slide close, not paying much attention to Eddie's annoyance at her wound. "I'm guessing Dean did that. Well, it's a good thing that Alex already took care of him or else he'd be very, _very_ sorry." Eddie ran his hands through his hair as he huffed. Something about the fact that Rebecca could have a concussion pissed him off. Why? Why did he care to begin with? If it was a mild concussion, she should be all right, shouldn't she? "You'll be fine," he said, not knowing that he answered her question. Or did she ask that out loud? "But I was hoping to try out this new machine here and I can't _do_ that when you may already feel the symptoms." Looking over at her, Rebecca opened her eyes to see him narrows his. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I don't know," she croaked and managed to lift her head up. "I can't remember." Why did he care if she ate or not? Shouldn't he know, anyway? She was his prisoner after all.

"I should probably get you some food then. How are your memories today?"

Rebecca knit her eyebrows together in confusion. "Memories? What memories?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Just memories. Can you remember anything of importance outside of this place? Have you experienced any flashbacks? Any dreams that seemed all too real and familiar?" Rebecca shook her head in reply. Why was he wondering about her memories? What did they have to do with her being here? But no, now that she thought about it, she couldn't remember anything really. She could recall some things: Eddie warning her about Joker and Harley, a few glimpses of Eddie's face as he did something before she blacked out, waking up in her cell a few times. Little other than that really. It was as if her whole life before this had disappeared. Possibly hiding behind the fog that clouded most of her mind. She should probably be frightened by this but she wasn't. For some reason, she didn't feel anything about the loss of her life. No remorse - nothing. Just a tiredness deep in her bones that made her body slack in the wooden chair.

Seeming pleased with her answer, Eddie gestured to the chair. "There's no use in sitting there. I can't possibly do anything now that Dean let his stupidity get the best of him. I'll get you some food and you can…clean up a bit, I guess. You smell horribly and you look like you've slept on the floor." Laughing insanely, Eddie left, Rebecca blinking at him. She put her head back against the chair, closing her eyes, and fighting to not succumb to the darkness. If Eddie was right, she needed to eat and clean herself. They were going to keep her alive, and she wasn't going to let herself starve. Might as well get some comfort from food and a shower. Rebecca still couldn't tell if she was hungry or not, which still struck her as odd. Shouldn't she know that?

What was going on with her mind?

* * *

Jane woke early in the morning, the sun still down in Gotham as her eyes slid back to reveal the darkness of night outside. It wasn't completely dark; the city lights made that an impossibility no matter how early of an hour it was. She balled the silk sheets in a tight fist, bringing the sheets upwards so that they now covered her until they reached the area just underneath chin while she turned to lie on her side. No matter what way she turned, she faced a window, but from here she could see Wayne Tower clearly. Standing tall in front of her, it stood out proudly with glowing lights like a beacon. The more Jane looked at it, the more she saw a resemblance of Bruce in it even though it had been built when he was a mere toddler at least. Steely, strong, supportive, and the center of the city. A protector and silent watcher over what all happened below - and lately the center of her world.

There wasn't a clock anywhere in the bedroom, but she gauged the time to be roughly around five or six. In the distance, she could just make out a few lines of cars heading to work, starting the day off early just when Bruce would end his. He should be back soon, always managing to slip into bed with her around six-thirty when the sun began to rise. Jane wondered faintly if she would ever get tired of this: waking up to an empty bed while waiting for him to come home to her. One piece or not, she didn't know. Bruised and broken or not. Jane couldn't gauge the condition he would come back to her until he was _there_ with her.

She did feel a little anxious. Though it was still dangerous for her to go out even with Maroni awaiting trial, she still yearned to feel the comforting weight of a gun in her hand. She did miss those days when she had a sense of purpose, something to push her forward. Now, all she did was sit and wait for Bruce to come home. While the rewards and benefits of that were great and she reveled in his presence, feeding off of it, Jane knew that at some point she would tire of it. She wasn't the type of woman who could live like this. It wasn't in her nature and neither in her temperament. Jane had far too much energy, too much stubbornness, and headstrongness to slip into the role as patient housewife so easily. She didn't want to go back into mob life or anything like that. No more undercover work for her. Jane also knew she was not cut out to work as a cop or detective. She held a high opinion of those like Gordon and his new squad, but it just wasn't a good fit for her. Having acquired a distaste for bureaucrats, she preferred to stay as far away from them as possible.

So, what could she do with her time? The boredom she felt had led her to learning how to cook from Alfred. Now, Jane had perfected the art of making mashed potatoes, and thought that she looked a little plumper around the midsection because of that – which, Bruce had said, was a ridiculous notion. She worked out every other day thanks to the handiness of Bruce's home gym in the upper floor. What did Alfred _do_ with his time here? All she and Bruce had done was watch the news, lay around together, and, well, _entertain_ themselves… together. He had yet to start teaching her what he learned from the League of Shadows, and she refused to push the subject further.

It wasn't that she didn't jump at the chance to learn the fighting moves, it was just that she knew he would do it at his own pace. Jane was going to blow her lid if he didn't initiate _some_ sort of physical activity other than sex in the upcoming week. Seriously, the man was almost exhausting. Not that she complained much.

Curling her knees closer to her chest, the fabric of her oversized gray t-shirt rode up, bunching around her hips so her legs were free to stretch out a little. Jane had come to really, _really_ liking Bruce's bed. Not only was it super fucking comfortable, but the silk sheets felt amazing against her skin. That, and it was so damn huge. She and him could both stretch out as much as they wanted to and there would still be room in between them. Not that they ever did that. When they were sleeping together they always slept in the direct center, curled up together somehow. Normally, her head on his chest and his arms around her back. Something lovey-dovey and some old school romantic shit like that. Seriously, Jane had come to pair the two of them together like a fucking soap opera shipping. They were always glowy and loving towards each other, yet neither of them ever said the words that hung in the air.

In fact, Jane couldn't even bring herself to admit that she might be in love with him.

Love still scared her. It was like an ultimatum, something that if she said or acknowledge, she couldn't take back. Right now she could leave. It would be intensely painful and hurt her for the rest of her life – and not to mention Bruce as well – but she could do it. If she ever said the four letter word, she would be kind of attached to him. Leaving would be…like…well, she didn't know. It would just get pretty fucking bad. Like ripping out her chest and then stabbing it over and over again. She would probably go mad and be even more of a recluse and bitch than she was before she met him. Shit like that…people just didn't get over it as easily. Maybe that was why she had yet to say the words, even in her mind. Not only was she scared to utter them out loud, she was also terrified to admit it to herself.

It wasn't like she was torn with not knowing what Bruce would say. He obviously cared a lot about her. The time when they made love and he tended to her so beautifully and wonderfully could testify to the fact that somehow, some part of him cared greatly for her. Maybe not love – that could be sort of a stretch. But care? Yes, he did. She had seen it clearly in his eyes, and Jane had been around him long enough to know that he rarely lied through his glances. He could fake disinterest or could throw up walls, but when it came to the emotions that he wanted someone to see? He couldn't do anything about that. Just like she was at a loss when it came to those that she cared for, so was Bruce. They were alike in that fashion, though lately she had been horrible at keeping them safe.

Bruce still had not heard anything as to where Rebecca might be. It seemed that after that night, she had disappeared completely in Gotham. Vanished into thin air. So did Eddie and Alex as well. The whole situation was becoming more and more fishy when she mulled it over in her mind. Why would Alex show up and become tangled in with Maroni? Alex had always seemed to harbor a hatred for businessman and in essence, that was what Maroni _was_. Maybe his need for revenge on her for getting him kicked out of Gotham was greater than his distaste for men like Maroni. Still…the situation was odd. Something was off, especially how easily the three of them had disappeared. Alex was the type that would instantly seize control of the mob once Maroni was out of the way. But no, so far she hadn't heard of anyone going into the position, least of all a newcomer. Talk like that would have reached Bruce's ears, and he would have relayed the message to her.

Alex. Thinking about him gave her a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had come to realize just how bad of a guy he was. Ferocious and unforgiving, she didn't know what she was thinking when she had let him take her to bed. Then again, she had been so young, so blinded by the fact that she had no one to love her. So, she had sought that care in the arms of someone who was so wrong for her that thinking of her first time was like a punch in the gut. Alex hadn't been rough, but he hadn't been gentle either. He just…didn't care. She had allowed him to use her body for his own satisfaction, receiving none in return. The experience – combined with the one time he had been rough just before he had been kicked out – had led her to believe that sex was pointless. And she had kept that idea for years, right until Bruce had shown her that it was so much more than what she had thought.

If Alex was heartless enough to take advantage of an eighteen-year-old girl like that and then leave her coldly behind, what other things was he capable of? Oh, Jane knew all too well. He had been the one to help her kill her father's killer, coaching her along the way, teaching her how to prolong the torture. He had created a monster that night. Jane knew that she was capable of horrible, horrible things because of Alex, and when he came back into her life he had reminded her of that. He reminded her of the horrendous person that she could be – someone, even, that didn't deserve to be called a person. Jane had little regrets, no matter how her life turned out, but she did not like that she had let Alex manipulate her like that. But, what could she do? She was young, and he was handsome. There for her when no one else was in his own cruel way.

Jane sighed and kicked the covers off, suddenly feeling way too hot under the sheets. Sitting up, she scooted until her back rested against the headrest. She drew her hand across her face and took in a deep breath, letting her hand fall and drop into her lap. Jane couldn't help but fear for Rebecca. She couldn't do anything about her position, but the poor girl was with Alex and Eddie. Eddie, a sick _fuck_ that had left the note. She recalled the words clearly, the script often giving her chills. It was just so damn freaky and weird and _insane_.

"_A debt has been made_

_That debt must be paid_

_With the blood and the pain_

_The hurt and the flame._

_You will die, Jane_

_But not before you suffer in this game."_

Bringing her knees to her chest, she rested her elbows on her knees and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She had chill bumps just thinking of the words she had committed to memory. Death… Death Jane couldn't deal with. Blood? Pain? Hurt? Flames? Those were things she could come back from. She was strong enough, _she_ thought, too pull through somehow. Plus, she had Bruce to help her if she needed him. But death? Death was _not_ something she could bounce back from. Death was permanent. Scary. Terrifying. She would take enormous pain and disfigurement nonexistence any day. She didn't want to die, never had and never would. Death was so absolute, so final. Living was what she wanted. Others may feel differently, but she was a damn survivalist and she was going to stick by that. If they wanted to kill her, then they were going to have to fight her to death because she would not give up easily.

Just thinking about death made her uncomfortable. Even though she had taken men's lives before, the thought of her own death when she was just beginning to feel happy? It terrified her. More so than normal perhaps. She now had someone who could possibly love her, a man who lavished her with complete adoration and affection. She didn't want to lose that just yet. In fact, Jane just wanted Bruce to keep indulging her. Sure, she didn't want to be treated like a porcelain doll all the time, but sometimes it was nice to feel like a woman. A beautiful woman. A woman who was desired by someone and who spurned a fire that was only quenched by her. She was helpless to his touches and his kisses, but at the same time she felt more than powerful when she felt the effect that she had on him as well.

Reaching up, she brushed her hair back out of her face. She really didn't know what to do about the whole letter thing. She knew Alex wasn't going to just let her go. It wasn't his style. And after their encounter, she could tell that his style hadn't changed much from when he was with Falcone. She really didn't know what to do about the whole letter thing. She knew Alex wasn't going to just let her go. It wasn't his style. And after their encounter, she could tell that his style hadn't changed much from when he was with Falcone.

Struck with a desire to get out of the room, she rolled over on the mattress and jumped off. Her bare feet padded on the wooden floor as she made her way to the den area, deciding that a bit of television would be best to get her mind of things. Maybe one of those sitcoms that she liked would actually be on. One from the seventies that Rebecca had teased her about so much. With a faint smile playing at the edge of her lips at the memory of Rebecca's teasing about her television tastes, she plopped down on the sofa and instantly grabbed for the remote. The den was huge, the flat-screen television matching it. Crossing her legs underneath her, she flipped on the television and immediately went to the guide, scrolling past the new channels instantly. She already knew Bruce would be the main topic of discussion, and didn't care as to what tired debate the newscasters would have. They all said the same damn thing. That Batman should be stopped and locked up.

Fucking idiots.

One day, they would see the value of what Bruce did. One day, Gotham would need its hero. Hopefully that day wouldn't come soon, but it was coming. Jane could _feel_ it. And on that day the reporters would eat their words, Jane watching with a smug smile as they finally realized the extent of their stupidity and came to terms with the fact that they did, indeed, need Bruce.

She couldn't find any of her normal sitcoms, but did see a Western on one of the channels. Smiling broadly, she instantly clicked it, tossing the remote down as she settled into the couch comfortably. Westerns were a guilty pleasure of hers, one that she hadn't been able to soak in a whole lot due to her limited channels on cable television. Thank goodness Bruce had like, every fucking channel in the universe. She didn't recognize the names of the actors or the title of the movie, but she didn't really care as she allowed her thoughts to be completely wiped away as she stared intently at the television.

Jane was broken out of her revere with a gentle touch on her shoulder, running up to caress her neck. Instantly, she knew that it was Bruce. This was confirmed as he came around and sat next to her, immediately reaching to drag her across the couch and up next to him. He had changed out of the suit and into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. Jane snuggled up next to him, resting her head against his shoulder as she continued to pay close attention to the television.

"Garth Brooks and Westerns," Bruce commented, burying one of his hands into her hair. "You've managed to surprise me numerous times lately, Jane. Which doesn't happen very often, I can promise you that."

"I can't help that you made so many quick assumptions. Besides, Westerns are awesome anyway. It was the only part of history that I really liked when I was in high school. Indians and cowboys, a sort of anarchy environment out in the middle of nowhere. No extremely corrupted officials; just open land and all the time in the world to search it. Man looking after his own and taking care of his community, and a hard, honest life."

"But what about the bandits? The horse-stealers?"

"Every society has its urchins." She said and looked up at him. "But it's our job to look away from them and not give them the recognition they're trying to achieve." She looked back at the television. "We sometimes have to focus on the happiness of the majority of people living at the time instead of the rotten people at the bottom who tried to ruin it for everyone."

Kissing the top of her head, he chuckled a little. "You become so passionate when you speak sometimes. I can never figure out if you're giving me a speech or a lecture. Not that I mind. I like a woman who has fire to her."

"Shut up. You're distracting me from my movie." Bruce laughed again, his chest vibrating against her shoulder. Jane leaned further into him, resting completely against his body as he tugged her closer. The two of them curled together while watching the cowboys fight against the bandit gang.

"There's talk that the Maroni crime family already has a new leader," he said while running his fingers through her hair. Jane looked up at him awkwardly, and then shifted off of his chest so that she could look at him with curious eyes. Already? Maroni had a replacement so soon after being incarcerated. "Some guy named Jim, I believe. Jim Murdoch. Do you know him?"

Jane certainly did. The guy had been extremely quiet – in her ten years of working with Falcone, she had only come across the man a few times. But to be honest, he had only joined in the latter years of her time with Falcone. He wasn't as active in the family as others were - maybe not by choice, since Carmine was known to dole out hard jobs based on seniority. It was a rather strange man to choose for the job of replacing Maroni. She thought that everyone would have just fallen apart or something, not join under a new leader so damn soon. The guy, though, was relatively harmless, so it was strange to think of him as the new leader. Yes, the guy was good muscle and everything, but she could tell that he hadn't been one to care too much about family. Much like her, he had almost been detached, above it all. For him to take control was certainly a surprise and she instantly questioned Bruce's sources.

"Who told you that?" She asked as she narrowed her eyes. Propping one elbow on the cushion behind her, she laid her legs in Bruce's lap so that she faced him. "I mean, yeah I know him and all, but he's not the type to take control and everything."

"It's what's going around in the streets. I heard a few men mentioning it when I was making a round in the Narrows. They said that Jim had just taken control and was instituting a few rules. Rules that Maroni would never have implemented. He's not exactly popular amongst Maroni's men."

"Strange. I wish I still had a few contacts, then I could check out whether or not he is, indeed, the new head of the family or not."

Bruce gave her a hard look. "You're not going over there just to check it out are you?" He saw the look in her eyes and frowned deeply at her. "No. Jane, I'm serious. It's too dangerous for you to go to the Narrows._ Especially _if there are hints of a power struggle going on. People will be riled up and eager to do whatever it took to come out on top."

"You're seriously going to try to tell me what to do?" She asked incredulously.

He sighed, moving his hand from her hair to rub it across his face. Surely he knew that his words were falling on deaf ears. If she wanted to do something, then she would do it. Regardless of what the circumstances were. He had brought it up, dammit and piqued her interest. Of course she was going to go and see what was going on in the Narrows. She wasn't going to engage in anything, just stand by and listen while hiding in the shadows or something. Jane would have her gun and her knife. She would be fine.

"Bruce, listen, I appreciate your concern and everything. But don't you want to find out more about Jim? I barely remember him so it's not like I can feed you information about him or anything." Jane put her hand to his cheek and turned his head so that he was looking at her. "Let me help you with this. I can take care of myself perfectly fine. I'm not going to get myself into trouble this time – I swear."

"I still don't want you going down there. It's too dangerous." He half-pleaded with her. Jane sighed, sliding her hand down so that it dropped on top of her thigh. She wasn't going to get through to Bruce, it seemed. And, who could honestly blame him? The last time she had ventured out around the mob, Jane been attacked and knocked unconscious. When Bruce had finally found her, she had almost bled out due to the gunshot wound. Of course he would be over protective of her. Jane did have a knack for finding trouble somehow. Well, she was going to go. Even if she had to lie to Bruce, she was going to find out about this guy. Maybe then she could get some answers about Rebecca along the way.

"Fine. You win. I won't go." She sighed, trying to sound convincing so he wouldn't question her. She tried to lie as smoothly as possible, even though she was a fucking awful liar when it came to Bruce. He could read her like a fucking book sometimes. Daunting, and a little infuriating at times like this when she really needed to be as cunning as possible.

"You're still going, aren't you?"

"Yep."

* * *

Samantha worked, in her opinion, one of the worst, most boring jobs in the world. Or, at least, in all of Gotham.

A damn bank. A degree in Computer Science had done nothing to land her an adequate job in which she really dealt with computers and technology – something that she had found herself pretty darn good at growing up in central Gotham. The economy, however, begged to differ when compared to her dreams of designing computer programs and dealing with high-tech software. Instead, she dealt with whiny, aggravating people who couldn't understand most of the basic rules of the bank. They always asked the same mindless questions that she guaranteed a monkey could work out: _How do I check my balance online? How do I put money into my savings account? How high are your interest rates for loans? What do you mean this is overdue? There's a charge for using my card at a different machine? Is there any way that we could make that over-draft charge disappear?_

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. If you didn't know crap about paying bills on time and then spent the rest of the time complaining about the late fees, why even join a bank? It was mindless. Everyone was full of idiocy and moronic natures. It was _not_ that hard. Sighing in discontent, she swiped her long super-straight brown hair over one shoulder and sat up a little higher in her chair pulled up to the teller counter. She normally worked in the back with the loan office, but a teller had called in late saying she was sick, so Samantha had been pulled from the back and pushed into the seat. It wasn't a hard job, really. Samantha picked up on things pretty quickly – as long as it wasn't like, a sports thing or something. This? Working at the front counter? She could do this with her eyes closed. Dealing with these incompetent fools though…that was a different story. She wanted to pull a gun out and stick to her head to put herself out of her misery.

At the same moment that she waved forward the next customer, gunshots fired out. Head snapping towards the entrance, her eyes widened at the figures with…clown masks? _What the hell_? Was this some sort of joke? Shots were fired again, and Samantha pushed her seat back away from the counter, her hands shaking in fear as the figure multiplied. Now, there was more than one man in a mask. That meant more than one gun.

A few of the women started screaming, and Samantha was frozen in her spot behind the desk as the sole guard was pushed onto the floor. "All right everyone! Hands _up_! Heads _down_!" Samantha dropped to her knees instantly, crawling under the desk so that she was out of sight. Closing her eyes, she pressed her back against the wooden panel and sucked in a few panting breaths. Oh gods, this was happening. When she had said she wanted a gun to put herself out of her misery, she hadn't been for real. If only was Jim was here – her older brother would probably be able to wipe out the robbers instantly. Before they even knew what was going on. If only she was more like him, maybe then she wouldn't be underneath the desk like some pansy.

"I said hands _up_!" A gruff voice screamed at someone, the same man who had spoken earlier. He was probably the leader. The instigator of the whole group. Oh gods, why had they picked today to rob? She could be in the back, perfectly safe from the gunfire and the men. "Heads _down_!" The voice was nearer now, and she couldn't help but pant even though she was out of their sight. Hidden beneath the desk, she could see the legs of the bank teller beside her and the other woman to her other. They were still standing, probably too shocked to even move. Who would rob this bank anyway? It was a damn _mob_ bank! Whoever had chosen this one had to be psycho.

"Let's go pal, I'm making a withdrawal." The man's voice was directly beside her now, and Samantha's head turned to see the guy next to her be dragged over the table, his legs disappearing from her sight as she heard him collide with the floor on the other side of the counter. Her breathing sped up – she was fully panting now. Fumbling through her pockets of the jacket she wore, her trembling fingers tried to find her cell phone.

"No!" The woman on the other side of her screamed before her legs, too, disappeared. Samantha looked down, breathing and hands shaking awfully as she tried to find her phone. Dammit! Where was the damn thing? It wasn't in her pockets at all. If she could get to it somehow, she could call Jim and he would come. Probably send a group of men, too, now that he had control over Maroni's family.

"You!" Samantha cried out in shock as she looked up, eyes meeting a clown-masked man in front of her who had spoken. He snarled, reaching forward to grasp her collar as he jerked her out from underneath the counter. Samantha grabbed onto her chair, stopping him from pushing her entirely on the floor. "Trying to hide, huh? Going to call the cops, were ya?" He snatched her by the hair and yanked her up, Samantha immediately trying to latch onto his hands to pull him off as her eyes squeezed shut at the pain. He pushed her onto the counter. Lying on her stomach, her hand felt around for something to use as he put the barrel of the gun to the back of her head.

Never had she felt more scared in her life. The metal was cold, pushing her face forward. She tried to forget about the powerful weapon pressing against her. It wouldn't do her any good. Not now. Fingers scraping against an empty wire file holder, she held on to it firmly. Breathing in deeply though her nose, she tried to calm herself down, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do. "We don't _like_ the cops. Hey! You!" He called to someone else, and the gun was removed from her head. Acting out instantly, she pushed herself off of the counter and swung the file holder as quickly as she could, smashing it against the side of the masked man's face.

The metal jarred in her hands, vibrating as she dropped it, and quickly she tried to run past him towards the back. He caught her, his arm gripping her around the waist. He pushed her back towards the counter. Her hands braced herself against it but it didn't stop her spine from colliding painfully against the wood. Eyes wide, she saw his fist forming, it sailing towards her, and then _felt_ the hard blow to her chin. Samantha collapsed against the counter, lying on top of it once more as the pain in her lower jaw pulsed and throbbed. She groaned, reaching a hand up to touch it gingerly.

The man jumped over the side, landing loudly on the tiled floor. He grabbed her hair again, and with her screaming out, he dragged her off the counter until her feet met the floor. He dropped her, Samantha groaning loudly as she landed. Her head, her jaw, her spine, and now her legs hurt as she laid there. Struggling to get up, she felt someone grab onto her arms, hauling her into a sitting position, then someone thrusting something into her hands. Opening her eyes, she practically screeched as she realized what it was that she was holding.

A grenade.

"Obviously, we don't want you doing anything with your hands other than holding on for your life." The leader said smugly, and Samantha swiveled around, neglecting the piercing pain that was going through her body. She saw that everyone was being giving a grenade – every single one of them.

The guard tried to get up, but a chubby robber hit him in the back with the butt of the gun. "Stay on the ground! Everyone _stay on the ground_. No one make a move! Nobody! Stay down!" Samantha was sure that he would have kept on screaming if not for the sound of a more powerful gun going off, and then the guy arching is back outwards like he had been kicked from behind. He fell to the ground. Samantha looked to see Mr. Filch, someone a bit more higher-up in the bank, striding through his now-gone glass wall, expensive shoes crushing broken glass as he held a huge gun in his hands.

The other robbers scrambled to get behind something as Mr. Filch fired four more times. "Do you have any idea who you're stealing from?" He screamed angrily. "You and your friends are _dead_!" One of the robbers – the leader - leapt up, and Mr. Filch fired at him, the guy immediately ducked down. Mr. Filch cocked his gun again, but this time, he was met with an empty click. The other robber stood from behind the same counter, lifting his gun easily and firing. Samantha's hands squeezed on the grenade as she watched the old man go down. Still alive, but wounded.

"Where did you learn to count?" The leader hissed accusingly, inspecting his shoulder as he stood from behind the counter. The other guy just looked at him, and Samantha felt a huge amount of _creepy _coming off of him. He hadn't said a whole word since he had come in, unlike the other guys who had constantly screamed. She scooted back a little, pressing against the paneling of the wood counter as she tried to breathe. So, they weren't going to kill them. If they were, they wouldn't have given everyone grenades to begin with. How the hell had a simple robbery team managed to get this many grenades? Unless…

Maybe another mob? Only someone that was powerful would steal from another mob bank. Though that was unheard of, it wasn't impossible. Whoever was here now was someone that had a lot of money, a lot of power at their disposal. This wasn't just some random robbery, this was something far more tactile. A pie in the face. A funny pick at another rival family. A taunting statement as to prove who was higher on the totem pole.

The guy who shot Mr. Filcher was walking around, eyeing the hostages as they sat on the floor, waiting to see what would happen next. The leader had disappeared, probably in the vaults to load up on the money. Five minutes later, there was a growing pile of full duffle bags near the door, the last two remaining robbers – the leader and the quiet guy – adding more bags to the piles. "That's a lot of money. If this Joker guy was so smart, he would have asked us to bring a bigger car." He cocked his gun, slowly raising it to his accomplice. "I'm bettin the Joker told you to kill me as soon as we loaded the cash."

"No, no, no, no, _no_," the quiet man finally spoke, sighing as he checked his watch. "I kill the _bus_ _driver_." He slid to the side, and the leader's head turned a little in confusion.

"Bus driver?" He asked puzzlingly. The gun lowered a little bit, but was still pointed at the guy. "What bus driver?" Instantly, the sound of breaking glass filled the air as a damn _bus_ backed right into the entrance, stopping just as it hit the leader. He was pushed away, landing somewhere behind the pile out of Samantha's line of sight.

"School's out!" Another chubby clown-masked man said as he jumped from the back door of the bus. "That guy's not getting up, is he? That's a lot of money." After all of the bags were tossed into the bus, the guy looked around in confusion. "What happened to the rest of the guys?" The quiet guy held the gun behind him as he walked away, shooting him dead. Samantha's eyes widened, her hands tightening around her grenade.

"Think you're smart, huh?" Mr. Filcher coughed out, catching the guy's attention before he jumped into the bus. "The guy that hired you? He'll just do the same to you. Criminals in this town used to believe in things. Honor. _Respect._ Look at you. What do you believe in, huh? What do you believe in!" The guy leaned down and stuck a grenade in between his teeth, sitting back on his heels as he looked at Mr. Filcher.

"I believe that whatever doesn't kill you simply makes you," he reached up and removed the mask. "_stranger_." Samantha gasped as the guy turned away, walking back towards the bus. He got in, shutting the door, and before long, the bus was driving out, and glass clinking as it fell onto the ground.

What. The. _Hell_.

* * *

**So Joker has arrived and the events of TDK are beginning. We also saw into the mind of someone else. Hmm...will she show up again? Who knows?**

**Oh, wait, I DO.**

**Thanks to those who review/ favorite/ follow! I love you lots.**

**Love me some love? XD**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Not going to act like I'm a genius in fighting moves or anything. So, all that Bruce tells her is courtesy of me going across the hall in my building and bugging the hell out of the Ginger kid that is a black belt in karate and looking at a few YouTube videos. **

**Hitting kind of a road block on Chapter 6, but I'll be in the dorm by myself so maybe that'll help.**

* * *

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Bruce asked her for what seemed like the billionth time. Jane tried to resist the strong urge to roll her eyes like a four-year old child but she did it anyways. Oh well - she was never one for impulse control anyway. How many times was he going to ask that same damn question? Seriously, one would have thought that they were trying to build an atomic bomb or something he was acting so cautious. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to glare at him, though it was hard seeing as how she was trying to convince him that this was, indeed, a good idea and not something that he would regret later.

She chose to sigh instead, walking around him and making her way towards the mat. "Yes, Bruce. I'm more than positive. We've already said that this is the smartest thing to do. Besides, you don't want me to go out there and get hurt because you were too damn stubborn to show me some moves, do you? I'm not asking you to marry me, just to show me how you manage to fight so fucking well."

"This isn't something that you can learn in just a day, Jane. It's-"

"-_a mental thing just as much as a physical thing_," she quoted him from earlier in a mocking fashion, earning a narrow-eyed glare from him. "Yeah, you've only said that like a hundred times in the past _hour_. I'm already dressed anyways," she motioned towards her yoga pants and black tank-top. For some reason, she was drawn to black, and the dark colors popped against her pale skin, making her appear even more washed out in her opinion. Not that it really mattered, anyway. She wasn't there to look pretty. She was there to learn Bruce's moves so that she could – maybe – hold her own against Alex whenever he decided to come around again.

She stood, shifting her weight from leg to leg, on the mat in Bruce's gym. That's right – he had a fucking _gym_ in his apartment. Seriously. She knew that it had always been there, had even worked out in it multiple times since she had moved in, but the knowledge that there was a damn gym just a staircase away still startled her. It was beautiful with state-of-the-art machines everywhere and a wall of mirrors on one side, floor-to-ceiling windows facing the city's skyline. She had to stop herself from looking out them at first. They were a _little_ too high for her liking. Which was weird, because it didn't bother her in the bedroom and the other rooms in the house. But, whatever. Maybe she was just odd like that.

Excitement coursed through her as Bruce sighed, lifting a hand to rub it through his hair as he stared at the ground. His eyes flickered up to hers for a moment, and she tried to give him what she hoped was a reassuring look. If he backed out now, someone better help him, because she would go batshit insane on him.

Ha. _Bats_. That would be funny. Her going batshit insane on a guy that dressed like a bat.

Okay, _someone_ needed to get out of the house.

Jane tried to muffle her giggle by raising a hand to cover her mouth. She couldn't act like she wasn't taking this seriously. Because she was. And if Bruce didn't think so, then this lesson would be over in a flash. She didn't understand why he was so hesitant on teaching her. The two had sparred once before out of her sheer curiosity, and the only way that she had been able to beat him was because she practically whored herself out to him. Not that she regretted it. The reward for her win afterwards had been _so _worth it.

But now? She was going to pour whatever instinct and talent that he had into it. No kissing, no groping, no shameless batting of her eyelashes. He would be her enemy when they fought today and she wasn't going to try to distract him like she had that first time. Jane wanted to learn what he knew, not to beat him, but to better protect herself. She was in a whole different ball game here, with opponents who were out of her league. Jane's competitiveness and survivalist edge made her want to be the best. Alex had defeated her all too easily that last time and _Eddie_ – that fucking rat-like scumbag – had also managed to shoot her. Like she was a damn rookie cop or some shit. It still pissed her off that he had gotten that one little thing on her and she vowed to herself that it wouldn't happen again. With anyone.

"Are you going to make me stand here all day or are we going to start?" She asked, folding her hands back across her chest.

"I'm trying to think of _how_ to go about this. I haven't trained anyone before in anything, and I learned from someone who had been teaching for decades." He frowned at her, thinking deeply. "All that I took away from the League was my training and their ideas of theatricality. Their system and beliefs…I didn't agree with them."

"So…seems pretty simple then. I'm not one for dramatics, and I just want to know how you fight off eight guys at one time." Jane shrugged her shoulders. She didn't think that the mask-and-cape thing was for her, honestly. That was all Bruce. She preferred her staple piece guns, knives, and combat boots. If she was going back into the Narrows, she would need some sort of disguise though. Something to help her hide better in the shadows not a suit of armor. The bulkiness wouldn't help her in the least, since she put a lot of work in her flexibility and such instead of brute strength.

He seemed appeased and stepped towards her on the mat, finally joining her on the surface. "So you just want to learn a few more moves?"

"Of course. I think we can both agree that I'm not going to become a caped crusader, so I don't need to know all about that. Just the movements and a few of those fuckawesome kicks and hits that you manage to land." Bruce chuckled and she smiled at him, glad to see that he was finally beginning to warm back up to the idea. "How about we just start sparring and then you can tell me what I'm doing wrong along the way. You know, give me a few pointers and shit. And this time, _don't_ hold back. That shit pissed me off."

"All right, I won't hold back then." Bruce said with an eerie smile, stepping back from her. He gripped the bottom of his tee-shirt, pulling it over his shoulder and tossing it away. Now, shirtless with nothing but a pair of sweatpants and tennis shoes, he began to step to the side, circling her. Jane watched him cautiously, pivoting lowly with him. She figured that he was probably going to lash out once her guard was down. When he thought that she wasn't paying attention anymore. "You're normally good with patience," he spoke approvingly, making a complete circle now but then starting a new one. Jane noticed that he took a step closer to her. "That's good. Too many times do people just rush into a fight. Try to gain an idea of how your opponent fights. Strength? Flexibility? Instinctively? Professionally? You can learn everything you need to know just by watching them – keeping eye contact some before studying how they move. What can you learn about my fighting style right now?"

Jane felt very much like a ballerina in a jewelry box, spinning extremely slowly, crossing one foot over the other as she kept up with Bruce, refusing to put her back to him. "You're obviously muscular, so you probably rely heavily on strength." He nodded, urging her to continue. "You're studying me as well, and moving leisurely. Probably a professional. Someone who has been trained. You're not some common street thug that's for sure."

"Good, good. And by me watching you, I can tell that you're extremely defensive. Instead of acting out on me, you're waiting for me to make the first move. You keep up with my movements and never once expose your back – all good things." Bruce noted as he started another circle. One step closer. "You're not physically imposing, so you rely on flexibility and stamina. When faced with someone who's obviously stronger than you, what are you going to do? How would you fight them? Normally, that is."

"Normally? Well, I'd just shoot them and try to run. If I have to fight them, I'd try to keep out of their reach and wear them down. Probably kick them in the groin – which I do a lot – and run like hell."

"Not exactly the _best_ thing to do, but it's seemed to help you some." He stopped and stepped closer, her body tensing. He didn't raise his arms though, so it didn't seem like he was going to start fighting her or anything. "Okay, now I'm obviously taller than you. What you want to do is raise your fists to your cheeks – protecting your head." Bruce gently grasped her wrists and pulled her arms up. "Good, and point your elbows down. If your opponent goes for your ribs, then drop your elbows down a bit, if he goes for your head, simply lift them up. If he's fast, then what you want to do is similar to how you normally fight: jump in range, hit a few times, and then back out before he can counterattack. If he's fast, stay _in_." She arched an eyebrow at him. Stay in? The fuck? Shouldn't she be trying to avoid the flying fists and elbows instead?

"Yes, stay _in_," he said, noticing her confusion. "_Bigger_ means _longer_. He probably has long arms and legs. Most of the power in his blows will be in his fists and lower arms – the closer you get in, the harder it will be for him to hit you hard enough to severely hurt you. Okay, now, if he blocks you, try to _shove_ the inside of his elbows where he's the weakest." Bruce made a wipe towards her cheek, and the position of her arm easily allowed her to block him by jutting it outwards, making contact with the crook of his elbow. Though was punching hard and she should have backed down, the position made him halt with her using as little strength as possible. And, it gave her the perfect opening for a powerful uppercut of her own. She dug her fist upwards into his stomach, eliciting a satisfied – but pained – grunt from Bruce. "Good," he groaned out a little and dropped his arm. "You're getting it."

"Let's try that again." She grinned wickedly at him, bringing her arms back closer to her chest. "I like that part." Bruce said nothing, but his arm lashed for the side of her head. She barely had time to lift her arm outward, stopping his blow before his other fist swung on the other side. Jane ducked her torso forward – her arm still maintaining the block on his other arm – and missed his punch. What she wasn't able to evade, however, was his knee solidly colliding with her gut. "Fuck!" She hissed, coughing up a little as she gasped. _Damn_. That hurt like hell!

"Don't bend down unless you can snap up," Bruce said. "You should have blocked the other hit, then laced your right leg in between and gave a kick my stomach. Let's do that again, shall we?"

"Can I _breathe_ first?" She put her hands on her knees, trying not to gag too hard as she struggled to breathe again. When she meant for him to not hold back, she hadn't thought that he would throw _all_ of his strength into his blows. Well she wasn't going to complain, she'd just have to get used to it. She was the one that wanted this lesson in the first place. "Just…give me a second or a hundred." Bruce waited calmly before she finally managed to stand, wincing a bit as she put her hand to her stomach where his knee had impaled itself. "Damn, Bruce. I'd hate to know what that felt like when you have your armor on."

"I'm sure it's not pleasant. Now, let's do it again. Remember what I said: block and kick. Try to move as fast as you can, but don't risk unsure footing. You want to keep your balance as well as you can. _Never_ – and I repeat _never_ – sacrifice sure footing for a harsh blow." She nodded, lifting a hand to swipe her hair back out of her face, wishing that for once it would stay in her ponytail. "Another thing, don't wear ponytails. They can easily be grabbed on to." Jane reached up and took out the elastic, shaking her hair out with her fingers before gathering it at the nape of her neck, tying it into a bun.

She put her hands up again, shifting her left foot back just a little. Bruce ran through the motions again, his right arm sailing for her face before his left did, and she blocked both easily before raising her right leg and smashing it into the center of his stomach. If he wasn't going to hold back, _she_ certainly wasn't. Bruce went backwards a bit, and she put her leg back down on the ground. "Great. Now, when you're fighting someone stronger, don't let them use their strength. _Don't_ let them get their arms around you, and don't let them latch onto you. If you're fighting, move from left to right instead of back and forth when you're in close. That way, if you do evade a punch, you're close enough for a counter attack. Also, feinting will be your best friend. Make him think you're going to punch him in the face, making him lift his hands up, and then go lower. Aim mostly for the center of the chest and the stomach. Naturally, the groin would be good but you've practically mastered that."

"So, move around a lot, fake punches, block, and throw in a few strong kicks. Okay," she nodded. "Got that. Pretty much wear him out and don't let him grab me."

"Right. And _don't_ pin him to the ground. They'll easily be able to throw you off unless you have a knife or something. Speed is going to be your best bet – so standing upright will be best. A good place for you to get a hit in also is the nose, of course. But that's common knowledge. Don't be afraid to go for the neck and ankle either. Do whatever it takes to neutralize a person so you can move on. Try not to kill them though, just knock them out." Jane nodded and cracked her knuckles. "Then, of course there are the other things that you probably know: don't get cornered, try to keep them in eyesight at all times, take hits to the back instead of the stomach. If they have guns, run and hide. You don't wear armor and all of this won't do you much good when up against gunfire."

Jane lifted her hands back up to her face, elbows straight to the ground like he said earlier. "Ready when you are, Bruce." He lashed out, sending a fist flying into the side of her face and she barely had time to block it before his other fist aimed for her stomach. She pushed it out of the way only to feel his other hand move from her arm and slap outwards against her chest, sending her flying backwards before she landed on her behind.

It was going to be a long lesson...

* * *

Since when was it normal to feel this much pain?

Jane had long since left the gym, having finally picked herself up off the floor for what felt like the billionth time in the hour that she and Bruce had sparred – for real this time. Now it was more than painfully obvious that he had held back that first time she fought against him. Her whole body was in agony, limbs crying out in protest whenever she tried to move them. She felt like she had been wrung out and thrown everywhere. Battered like…a battering ram? Whatever. Jane was far too tired to come up with something to compare what she felt to right now.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she grimaced as she took in her purple-and-blue skin. Her clothes were off, the tub filling up with hot water behind her. Filmed with a layer of sweat, Jane's eyes wandered around the heavy patches of already formed and forming bruises. Her legs, her arms, her thighs, her stomach. All covered with big, ugly patches. She even had one on her jaw from where Bruce had managed to move quicker than she expected. Though, honestly, she was glad that it was the only one she got on her face. She healed pretty quickly, and the marks would probably be all but completely faded within a few days. But she'd rather not walk around looking like a victim of abuse.

With a scowl, she turned around and examined her back. There was a large bruise forming on her side from where Bruce had slammed his heel into her, but that was basically it. Pretty much all of the damage was on her front side. Normally, Jane loved bruises – even got excited about them sometimes. There was just something about scars and bruises that was so damn cool to her.

But beneath the scowl and slight mortification at the state her body was in, Jane couldn't help but feel a bit proud of herself. Bruce was nursing his own wounds as well right now – though they weren't near as bad or numerous as hers – and to be honest, it could have been a lot worse. She had learned a lot today, and for that she was willing to take the knowledge with whatever else came with it. Bruises and fucking soreness and all. This, she could push through for a week. The skills and valuable information Bruce had shared? That was fucking priceless. She felt more confident than she had before, which could or could not be a bad thing. At least now she had something to back it up with. Jane had received a fucking combat lesson from fucking _Batman_. Like, seriously, who else could say that? No one to her immediate knowledge.

It could also be a bad thing because she was a cocky little bitch. Jane knew that she was far too smug for her own good, having gotten by for quite some time without a real challenge. Now, it was a different story. She was being thrown into a darker, harsher world. Especially if she was going to run with Batman. Jane wasn't planning on donning a cape and mask. Like she told Bruce earlier, it just wasn't her. But she could help him in her own little way. Sneaking around and shit couldn't be that hard, could it? Of course, she'd have to be extremely cautious now. More so than she had ever been. Maroni behind bars did not guarantee her immediate safety. In fact, with the power struggle going on, it made her situation all the more precarious.

But she had been cooped up for far too long. Not doing anything was boring her to tears and she would go mad if she spent one more day holed up in the penthouse with nothing to do but wait for Bruce. Not that she hated the time they spent together – she loved being around him. Still. Jane needed something more to do with herself right now. Maybe in the future – the _far_ future – she could become content with not doing much, but now? She just had too much damn energy and nothing to spend it on.

Dropping her hands from her stomach, she turned and went to the tub. She shut off the water, reaching around her head to take out her bun. Over the years, she had never thought about the whole easily-grabbing-hairstyle thing. Not even after Alex had grabbed onto it and bashed her head into the crate. Kind of stupid for her to just overlook it like that. Seriously, how could she not think about that? Such a sophomoric mistake.

She slipped one leg slowly into the tub, clenching her teeth at the intense heat of the water. Jane put her other leg in, then slowly – _very_ slowly – sank deeper and deeper until she was immersed up to her shoulders. Sighing peacefully, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the back. This felt so fucking perfect. Hot water over worked and tired muscles. Soaking into her skin, easing the tension and numbing the pain as she almost slipped into oblivion, into a peaceful sleep that she might not have ever wanted to wake from. Her muscles relaxed, slacking down beside her as she focused on nothing but the heat of the water and the feel of it against her skin. Jane was pretty sure that she let out a little whimper, but didn't acknowledge it as she immersed herself fully into the tranquil Zen mode she was trying to get in to.

The only thing that would make this moment better was a glass of southern sweet tea and Bruce against her. Preferably playing with her hair like he normally did. Seriously, it was like the guy had a weird fetish with her hair. She didn't mind the least bit though. Playing with hair was the way to a girl's heart – but honestly, Bruce didn't really need to do much more than just stand somewhere and continue to look pretty. She didn't want sex right now or some kind of gratification like _that_, just his presence was soothing.

Besides, he smelled really good.

She stretched out her limbs, a low groan slipping as she did so. It felt so good to just _chill_ after such an intense workout. Neither Bruce nor she had held back at all, whacking each other without restraint. Winces and grunts were aplenty, and Alfred had even come up to make sure that they were killing each other. He gave them both extremely weird looks, then turned and walked out without saying a word. Jane and Bruce had almost missed him since they were extremely enraptured in beating each other up.

Even though Jane was tired as fuck, she was finally glad for the practice. She found that she actually _liked_ fighting. She liked the adrenaline, the motions, and strength that went into it. Jane still preferred her guns, but figured that she could learn to use combat more if she was ever put into the situation again. Come to think of it, she probably needed to go to a firing range or something soon. Try to work on her aim a bit. She had practically been raised with a gun after her father "came back" but she still wanted to make sure that her hand could remain as steady as possible. Maybe now she wouldn't have any more surprises to shock her anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Jane tried to empty her mind of all thoughts. This was relaxation time, not thinking time. Too many notions running through her head and not enough peacefulness. She lowered herself down the tub and then completely immersed in the water. Eyes closed and hair swirling around her a little, she stayed under she couldn't breathe any longer. When she pushed herself out of the water, she gasped a little, catching her breath as her eyes opened to land on Bruce standing in the doorway, watching her. Creepy as ever.

"I already called dibs on the tub." She said and dropped her head back down on the edge. "So you're either going to have to wait your turn or go somewhere else."

Bruce, stubborn as ever, completely ignored her. Jane couldn't see him, but she felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing her forward off of the back of the huge tub before slipping in behind her. She sighed, but lifted her body up a little so that he could lay under her. How did they always wind up in the tub together? It was like they were always in there with each other.

He wrapped his hands around her stomach, and she rested her head against his shoulder. Nuzzling the top of her drenched head, he asked, "so are you going out tonight?" To the Narrows, of course. Jane knew what he was talking about instantly. He probably thought that if he could wear her out with the fighting that he could dissuade her from going into the streets. Well he was wrong. She wasn't tired enough to just lay around again. Her body had been resting for months, and she was more than eager to get back out there. Of course, she didn't have heroic ideals of her halting crime or some crazy shit like that. She had a realistic idea of how it was going to be tonight. But no matter how boring it was, she was still eager to leave.

"Yep. Why? Going to try to make me stay here tonight?"

"No." He said, and she blinked. What? _That_ was surprise. "I bought you some things. And sadly, no, it's not lingerie. Try to contain your disappointment please." Jane chuckled a little. Closing her eyes, she put her arms around Bruce's like she was holding him there.

"A gift, hmm? Is it a puppy? I hate puppies."

"How can you hate puppies?" Jane shrugged and he sighed. She was more of a bird person for some reason. Birds were beautiful creatures and their chirps weren't extremely annoying like barks were. "Inhuman, I swear. But no, it's not a puppy. I think you'll like it a lot though."

"Are you going to tell me what it is or what?" She _hated_ surprises.

"No. You're going to have to see it for yourself." Jane pinched his hand. "Hey now. No need to get violent again. I think you're in a lot worse shape than I am at the moment."

"I can still take you," she teased. Damn, why wouldn't he tell her what the surprise was? She fucking hated it when he did stuff like this. It better not be a car or something. She couldn't drive it anyway. "If you got me a Ferrari or some fancy shmancy thing like that, I'm going to kill you. I don't have a legal license anyway."

"How could you manage to live without a license? But no, it's not a car. I don't trust you behind the wheel of anything after Gordon told me how awful of a driver you were in the Tumbler."

She smirked at the memory, recalling the look of horror on Gordon's face when she jerked the heavy tank around Gotham like it was nothing. "Falcone forged any document that I could ever want. After I almost wrecked one of his favorite cars he never let me drive again though. Never really saw the point in going through the system and doing all that dammed paperwork when he could get me one in an instant. Seemed like it was just a waste time, and why waste something so precious? But seriously, come on Bruce, what did you get me? If it's something that crawls I _don't_ want it. Not to sound like a brat or anything."

Bruce sat up, causing her to move upwards as well. She opened her mouth to ask him what, exactly, in the hell he was doing when he moved his arms. One wrapped underneath her bent knees, the other around her back. Her hands moved to clutch at his shoulders as he stood, holding her bridal-style as the water fell off of them. Jane glared up at him angrily. "I was _relaxing_ asshole."

"Don't you want to see your prize?" Bruce teased her, stepping out of the tub.

"Did you have to fucking pick me up? I hate being carried – you know that." She grumbled. "I'm not a baby."

"Says the woman who's sulking," he pointed out as he went into the bedroom.

"I am _not_ sulking. Damn, why does Alfred keep it so cold in here?" Jane shivered a little, dropping her left arm to curl it across her naked chest. Where was a damn robe when she needed it? It felt like a fucking icebox in the bedroom. Bruce set her down easily on the bed, and she quickly reached for the blanket lying across the top of the comforter, wrapping it around her as best she could. Bruce went over to his bureau and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. "So…_where's _the big surprise?"

"Close your eyes. Haven't you ever received a surprise gift before?" Actually, no. She hadn't. Bruce, however, didn't need to know that. Not one that she was instructed to close her eyes before receiving it. With the other awesome little things Bruce had given her, he had just handed it to her at random moments, but it wasn't like he had toyed with her first. Still, he looked really excited and she didn't want to bring down his eagerness at getting her something. He was obviously exuberant about the gift, so the least she could do was humor him. With a short sigh, she closed her eyes.

She heard him open a drawer, some rustling around, and then the drawer closing. Surely he hadn't gotten her more clothes. She would drown in the cloth if she got any more. Honestly, who had the time to get all dressed up? There was always something better to do. Like watch Westerns now that she found that channel or…sleep. Yeah. Sleep would always come before getting dressed in something just to lay around Bruce's house in. Unless it was more workout clothes, she wasn't interested.

Bruce put a heavy box in her hands, and she opened her eyes, meeting his bright ones before she dropped them to the weight covered in wrapping she held. The wrapping was a thick cream color – definitely more expensive than the cheap colorful wrapping of her youth whenever she did get presents. Rich people. They didn't even use the same _wrapping _paper. Lifting an eyebrow as she fingered the large black bow, she gave him a dubious look.

"Open it," he urged, stepping around to sit beside her on the bed. "It's not a snake or a bomb. I'm not trying to kill you."

"You wrapped me a gift?" Jane asked with a humored tone. She couldn't imagine him wrapping her something – especially a present with a large fluffy _bow_. Laughing at the image that she did manage to conjure, she turned her attention back to the rather large box in her lap. "Oh _Brucie_, you shouldn't have!" Wrapping her fingers underneath the ribbon, she slid it up and off of the box. Jane put it to the side, and then tore through the wrapping, not bothering to carefully take it off. She had always liked destroying and shredding the paper. Feeling kind of like a little kid, she balled up the trash and threw it at Bruce's head, where it bounced and landed on the floor.

Smirking, she went back to the box. Tearing open the taped-down corners, she lifted the cardboard to see thin white paper hiding what was beneath. She gingerly picked up a corner, sliding it back to reveal four beautiful black guns. Her mouth dropping open, Jane gave Bruce a surprised look. She knew just by looking at them that they were _Smith and Wesson_s. A brand that she had been drooling over for a while but hadn't been able to convince Falcone to sway from his allegiance to simple – yet highly effective – _Glocks_. These four were top of the line, beautiful pieces of powerful metal. Jane drew her fingers across the four, the cold metal sharp under her fingertips. "Bruce," she breathed, eyes widening in excitement. "You really shouldn't have."

"Seventeen rounds per magazine, stainless steel finishing, easy access thumb safety," he said and picked one up. "I don't know much about guns, but the guy said that they were highly efficient and precise guns. Top of the line, of course. There are also a few boxes of cartridges in the armory where the suit is whenever you need them." She picked one up, the piece rather lightweight in her hands – noticeably more so than her old guns. The grip was easy, fitting her hand comfortably and perfectly like a glove. This _was_ an extension of her arm. She could barely tell that she even had it in her hand. "I'm not really fond of using guns, but I know that you can make a shot without killing someone. I figured that since they took all of your other weapons that you could use something to take with you tonight just in case you run into any more trouble."

Her eyes were still on the other weapons in the box and the one in her hand. Completely stunned by the thought and the gift, she didn't really know what to say. Jane didn't know how to express her gratitude. It was…too much yet she was utterly and immensely grateful for it. The beautiful pieces of metal symbolized more so her than his earnest notions to please her, also telling her that not only did he care for her protection and well-being, but also that he supported her. By buying her the guns, Bruce told her without words that he was behind her completely in her endeavor. To her, that meant so much more than any other gift that he could have possibly ever given her. It choked her up a little, her throat constricting as she laid the gun back down in the box. Sure, they were highly expensive commercial weapons, but still. It wasn't about how much money had spent. The unspoken promise behind them was what clammed her up.

That, and the fact that Bruce had always been a little apprehensive about weapons. Even without outright saying it, she could tell that he didn't really approve of her weapon of choice. The first time they semi-fought together that the docks when trying to grab Falcone, he had thrown her weapon out of her hands. It seemed that now he had seen her use it and realize how well she could handle one, he was a little more at ease with the idea of her using it. Jane had only immobilized with her shots now, never performing a kill shot. Yes, her aim was a little sketchy when she was taken by surprise, but she still hadn't killed anyone. Bruce was more relaxed with her using them, and had gone out of his way to find out about them. He had seriously consulted a specialist before purchasing one for her, picking what he believed would be the best fit for her. Bruce had put a lot of thought into this gift.

"Keep going," Bruce urged her, motioning towards the box. "There's a little bit more." Jane gave him a weird look. What more could he had possibly given her? The guns alone were already so much more than she could have ever even hoped for. Nonetheless, her curiosity got the best of her and she grabbed her new toys and gently placed them on the bed beside her. "I think you'll understand why I'm more than a little excited about this part of the gift than the guns when you see it."

Jane pulled back another layer of white tissue to see a folded black rectangle of fabric. Curious, she grabbed the top part and pulled it out. Oh…so _that_ was what he liked…

The garment was as black as night. Tight and stretchy, it looked almost like a full body spanx. Long sleeves, one-piece – a fully length body suit with a turtle-neck. Laughing a little, she looked at Bruce. "Do you really expect me to wear this?"

"I had Fox make it especially for you. The material is made out of Kevlar fiber, the same as my suit except mine is armor. _Yours_, however, will fit you like a glove, a second skin that moves and breathes when you do. Quite innovative, actually. Around the neck, chest, lower stomach, and thighs the material is thicker. _Those_ areas are bulletproof and someone will have a hard time trying to put a knife through it." His voice was high, excited as he took the suit from her hands and laid it across his lap, stretching it out so that she could look at the entirety of it and watch as he pointed out the areas he spoke of. "The turtle neck folds upwards to cover the lower half of your face and also protects your neck. Like the changes on the cowl of my suit, an electric current runs through it so that only you can remove it. Cool, huh?" Cool? It was like something out of a science fiction novel.

"Yeah, _cool_, I guess. But Bruce, isn't it a bit, uh… revealing? I mean just _look_ at it. It's super tight."

"Your greatest attributes in combat is your flexibility. Your jeans won't really allow you to use that to your full advantage. Plus, it won't let anyone really grab on to you as well since the material is kind of slick. I've been assured that it won't be uncomfortable for you to wear."

"Where will I put my guns though?"

"Simple. In the box is a belt with holsters, as well as one for under your arms like a backpack. Your knives can also fit there easily as well, and you'll have your boots." Bruce looked at her sheepishly. "Hope you don't mind using your normal combat boots. I know that you have an attachment to those. If you want a new pair though, I can –"

"No. No, Bruce. All of _this _is more than enough. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for anything better or more." She ran her hands down the left leg of the suit that was in her lap. The material was extremely soft, but she could tell that it was strong. Curious, she held the calf in her two hands and tugged as hard as she could. Sure enough, though the fabric gave, it didn't tear or anything. When she let go, it snapped back into place. Maybe she _could_ wear it. The tightness and sexual appeal of it kind of made her a bit edgy, but it wouldn't be too bad, would it? She was going to be in the shadows mostly anyways. The outfit had come from a lot of thought, and she trusted Fox's vision. Yes, she could definitely wear it. Might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but she'd get used to it. Looking over at Bruce, she smiled. "I appreciate it a lot. Thank you." Jane reached over and gave him a light peck on the cheek.

"I'm glad that you do." He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest as he gripped the comforter still wrapped around her shoulder. "It will make me feel a lot better knowing that you have some protection besides those thin shirts that you wear."

"Hey, they're _your_ shirts." She said and laid her head against his shoulder. Jane kept running her arms over the bodysuit. "Besides, they're quite comfortable and you haven't complained before."

"So…do you want to try the suit on for me?"

* * *

Samantha bit her lip nervously, tugging on her ponytail. She watched as her older brother Jim slammed his phone on the wooden desk. His eyes were tight, angry like he was about to punch a random person in the face. She hated it when he got in these moods. So angry, so violent that she became intensely nervous for anyone who dared cross his path. She threw Will a glance, and saw that he, too, looked a little tense. Her childhood friend gave her an assuring look after noticing that she was trying to asses just how angry Jim was. Will sat to her left in one of the other worn leather chairs that had remained in the office ever since she could remember. Samantha hadn't ventured much into the place due to Jim's constant refusal to take her anywhere near the restaurant, but now that he had taken charge of Maroni's seat of power he had allowed her to come around. She was a woman, but she was protected. Even though she wasn't a member of the family, Jim's and Will's constant presence deterred any unwanted attention.

Jim swore loudly this time, and her head snapped over to widen her eyes at his swiping arm across the desk, sending papers, pens, and everything else scattered around. Desk now cleared, he slammed his hands on the top before kicking the desk chair over. It rolled towards the sofa she sat on, bumping against it before falling on its right side. Wheels still spinning, Samantha looked down at it. Yep, her brother was more than furious at whatever conversation he had just had.

"He robbed _again_." Jim sneered and she looked up. Samantha instantly knew that Jim was so angry about. Two days after the man with the painted face and scars robbed the bank she had worked at – the one that Jim controlled – and this time marked the third of his robberies on mob banks in Gotham. "It was one of Gambol's, but still."

"If it's not ours then it's none of our concern," Will tried to reason, standing up and soothing his hands down the front of his worn and diesel-stained jeans. Samantha tried to warn him with her eyes but he ignored her almost completely. "Let Gambol worry about Gambol, Chechen worry about Chechen, and _whatever_. If it's not our money then there's nothing to get involved with."

Jim looked over at him, glaring angrily. Shit… He was _really_ mad. "Nothing to get involved with?" Jim spat, and with an angry roar wrapped his hands underneath the lid of the desk before pulling it up, completely flipping it so that it, like the chair, was on its side. Violently, he spun around to stalk towards Will, lifting a finger to point at Samantha. "He came into _my_ bank, harmed _my _sister, and stole _my _money. If he's not stopped now, when can we ever hope to? He's _dead_."

"Bro, calm down, okay? I'm just as mad as you are about that, but we can't do anything about it right now. You have bigger things to worry about than some clown." Will held his hands up and took a step back. "Like, for instance, the fact that Tyrone is trying to usurp your power. He's already got a few followers from the family and if he –"

"Tyrone is in no shape to do anything. He can't do shit with that limp now and he knows it. I'm not worried about Tyrone and neither should you. Right now, we need to squash this bug before he becomes even more of an annoyance to me. I won't take it any longer. If he robs us again and we don't do anything about it then the men will think I've gone slack. That I don't care about the money. If I don't care about the money, then why am I even here?"

"Look, I'm just saying-"

"I don't _want_ to know what you're saying! I don't give a flying _fuck _about your stupid opinions right now! All I care about is getting that _freak's_ head on a motherfucking plate!" Jim snarled.

"Jim, please calm down." Samantha practically squeaked from the couch. She hated it when he got this angry. And, looking at Will, she could tell that he didn't either. Soon, the two men would start flying insults and get into another fight. The two of them always did that and eventually would forget about it, but she still didn't like it. Seeing them fight like that made her wish that Jim had never gained the position he was in. Before this, he hadn't been as angry at everything as he was now.

"_Stop_," he screamed and glared down at her, "telling me to calm down." Jaw tight and fists clenched, he whirled around away from the two and stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him. Samantha jumped as she heard a crash, then more of Jim's loud, angry swearing as he tore out of the restaurant.

"He's not going to let this clown go, is he?" Will said, and Samantha turned her head to look at him now. He reached up and rubbed his hand on the top of his head, frowning. "I wish that he could control his temper better sometimes."

"He's just stressed. Maybe after this guy's captured he'll get better. You and I both know that he's not normally like this."

"If he doesn't get a different perspective on some things, then he's going to watch his position be taken right out underneath him. There are dozens of men out there who are practically foaming at the mouth when they look at this office. He needs to realize that already. Just because he managed to grab this once doesn't mean that he can keep it just as easily."

Samantha bit her lip. She knew that what Will said made sense. Jim had easily managed to maneuver into power once Maroni was arrested, but he didn't seem to understand that it wasn't permanent. Like Maroni and Falcone before him, things like this could slip away easily from grasp. He seemed to be in over his head on this one. Not only was he young, he was also extremely temperamental – as easily seen by his recent outburst that was sadly not an oddity anymore. The power shift had changed him and Samantha wasn't too sure if her brother even had that man he used to be still inside.

"He'll be fine," Samantha murmured quietly, not entirely sure whether she herself believed that statement or not. Standing, she tugged down her knee-length black pencil skirt down. She didn't work at the bank anymore. Jim had all but forced her to quit the day of the robbery. He had always been overprotective of her, which she imagined how most older brothers were with their younger sisters. Sometimes, Samantha even held him akin to an uncle or father-type figure even though he was vastly different from how their father was.

Will gave her a pointed look and she sighed, moving towards the door to find Jim. Maybe he would have cooled a bit and she could talk sense into him. The two of them had always been close, and she was normally the only one who could ever get through his thick, stubborn skull. He had snapped at her earlier, but then again she had spoken just when he was filled with the fresh fury of a recent phone conversation gone wrong. It was never good to try to calm someone down just when they received the news that made them last out in the first place. Especially someone like Jim. She should have known, really to not speak so soon. But she had been so nervous that he was going to take his anger out on Will that she _had _to speak up.

Will followed her. He kind of had to, seeing as how Jim had said one of the two would always accompany her from now wherever she went. Since the robbery and her coming back home bruised and shaky, Jim had acted as if she was a china doll instead of a person. Redoubling his efforts at keeping her 'safe', it was as if he believed that the clown was going to come back around. Apparently, just the thought that his newly acquired enemy had been that close to her nerved him like nothing else. Samantha couldn't really find it within herself to really blame them. Ever since the two of them had moved out of their homes and tried to make a life in Gotham, they were all each other had. Their parents were still alive, but they hadn't spoken to them at all ever since they left.

And for good reason.

Frowning at the memories, Samantha tucked her hair behind her ear and walked. She tried to ignore the stares of a few men, but it still prickled at her skin uneasily and made her glad that Will was right behind her. He wasn't a physically imposing man – more so tall and lean than anything. But his hard glare that he earned from a rough life in the Narrows gave him a mean, rugged look when he needed it to. She knew that he wasn't as tough as he could fake, but no one else did. Jim, Will, and herself used to play at her mother's workplace all the time, forming a strong bond between the three that had proved to work very well now that they were all on their own. They had grown up on different sides of the tracks: Jim and Samantha in the middle class white suburbs that were just on the outer edge of Gotham, Will in the dominant black streets of the lower Narrows. Still, the three had come out all okay. And were doing fine on their own against all odds.

Her black heels clicked against the wood and she cursed Jim for making her dress up like this. She had gone to Maroni's pre-trial hearing later that day, and so she had dressed for the occasion with Jim's push. He couldn't go, but she went in his stead. He had wanted her to find out what Maroni's chances looked like, gauge the situation so to speak. That was something that she was good at thanks to years and years spent on playing strategy online games for fun.

Her ruffled silk shirt provided little barrier to the chilly outdoor night weather as she stepped outside. She didn't know where Jim had gone off to exactly, but figured that she might as well find him before he killed someone.

"He probably went to the shooting range or something," Will offered, looking down the street to the warehouse that served as the family's training grounds. "He likes to fire guns whenever he's pissed off." Samantha nodded and followed Will to the building. When they went in, though, Will put a hand on her arm, holding her back. Questioning, she looked up at him with a furrowed brow. The warehouse was almost as dark as the outside, and it was hard to see his face with just the few dim lights in the place. "Go back, Sam."

"What? Will, what…" She trailed off, noticing for the first time that she didn't hear Jim firing a gun. She couldn't hear anything really now that she thought about it. Lifting her other hand, she clutched Will's elbow and steppd closer to him, dropping her head to look past him. A large, limping figure was visible coming from the shadows, body silhouetted by the lights behind him. A few more lights flickered on and she recognized Tyrone as well saw a few other men standing about the room.

Two of which held her brother.

"Go!" Will said and turned. He pushed Samantha towards the door. She stumbled, but managed to go with the movements, heading towards the door as best she could in the heels. Samantha didn't know what was going on, she was just following Will's orders.

A man reached out, swiping his arm across her waist and pulling her towards his chest. She tried to scramble out; screaming a bit as he roughly gripped her tighter, her heels flying off with her kicks as she futilely tried to escape. She wasn't a fighter, merely a computer programmer who had no body power behind anything. No training. Nothing to help her at the moment. "Leaving with the party just starting, are we?" The man chuckled in her ear, causing her to shiver as he pushed her towards Tyrone again. Will was already on his knees, gun pointed to the back of his head.

"Let her go," Jim said to Tyrone. "She's of no importance to you."

"But she's important to _you_." Tyrone shook his head, his hulking figure threatening even with the limp. Will's warnings from just a few minutes before flashed in her mind, and she thought of how Jim had scoffed at them. What was going to happen to them?

She was shoved forward, crying out as she fell beside Will. Her palms scraped against the concrete and she lifted hesitant eyes to Tyrone. "Now, Jim, we need to talk about the _family_." He said with a smile, opening his hand to reveal a long length of chain. It dropped to the floor, clinging against the concrete while he still held it in his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alrighty guys, we need an intervention here. I'd really appreciate some more reviews. Doesn't have to be in-depth or anything, but to hear back from y'all would be like sweet tea on a hot day. And I'm southern, so I love my tea. More reviews equals quicker updating time. Just tell me what you'd like to see, any critiques that you have, or how the weather is. I hate not knowing you guys! :/**

**On that same note, I'd also like to give a huge thanks to Medisha, diveunder, garnet86, Nerdman3000, and Zeroko for taking the time to leave me kind words. You guys are the bomb-diggity and earn a visual of a pretty cupcake.**

* * *

Jane didn't know what to think, slinking further into the shadows next to the building she had frequented so much throughout her life. From her viewpoint, she could tell that it was relatively empty. An oddity, considering that it was the headquarters for the family, and had been ever since it had started. Perhaps Jim had changed the position? Changed the location in his attempt to stake his claim further as the new Head? Maybe…but that didn't make much sense, even to her as she tried to think of reasons as to _why_ the fucking building was empty. The restaurant was as old as the family itself, a respected tradition, and surely a newcomer like Jim wouldn't have done something like that.

She drew her hands out from the pockets of her leather jacket that was donned over her new jumpsuit. Holding onto the collar instead, she drew it up and over her mouth, stopping just under the elastic of her low bun. Having been a bit cautious and weary about fabric covering her mouth like that, she was glad to find that she could still breathe very well. Possibly even talk without the sounds becoming muffled and distorted.

All she needed was a closer look. Just because she couldn't see any shadows moving inside the building or hear and boisterous claims that the men liked to make didn't mean that they had abandoned the restaurant. She would have to be careful of course, but she would also have to get a good look. See what was going on in the restaurant. That curiosity of hers was always getting the best of her. Not only did she want to see it for herself, but she also refused to go back to Bruce empty-handed of any knowledge that might help him in his fight against the mob.

Stepping towards a window, she put her gloved fingertips against the pane at the bottom, standing up on her tiptoes to get a clearer picture inside. She couldn't see anyone in there from this vantage point, and she narrowed her eyes. There were half-empty beer mugs on a few tables and some coats draped across chairs. Okay, so obviously the place wasn't abandoned. People had been in here – but where were they now? _That_ was the question she needed to ask herself. Frowning a little, she lowered herself back down on the ground and stepped away from the window. Where to begin? Where could she start looking now that the restaurant was ruled out?

Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned and made her way back to the mouth of the alley, staying close to the shadows. Her limbs were a little sore from her fight with Bruce earlier that day, but she had taken a quick nap, downed a few pain pills like a fucking addict, and she was managing. How Bruce could do this every day beat her. Faintly, she wondered where he was tonight. Was he around her, keeping a sharp eye to make sure that she stayed okay? Jane hadn't told him that he couldn't do that and he hadn't said that he would. So…really, she had no fucking idea where he was in Gotham. A part of her didn't care too much honestly. She needed to focus on the task of finding out where in the hell the family was being holed up.

Reaching the mouth of the alley that led into the street, she paused, and strained her ears. Was that boot steps? Pausing a little longer, she tilted her chin to the side just slightly and stepped back into the shadows. Yes, those were definitely boots. Male with heavy shoes and weight heading her way from the left-hand side. Jane pressed her back to the wall in an attempt to slink further against it. One hand was on her gun at her right hip, the edge of her jacket lifted a little as she kept her hand there. She was still trying to get used to the feel of the thin fabric there instead of the toughness of her jeans and the softness of her plaid shirts. But whatever. It was fine, really. When she tried it on for Bruce to make sure that it 'fit', his jaw had all but dropped to the floor.

Jane was more than a big smug that she had that effect on him. It was gratifying, making her feel feminine and pretty – two things that she rarely felt in her other life. It was just so….empowering to feel that way. To know that she had that grasp on him. Knowing that she aroused him just as much as he did to her. And not only when he was in that suit of his, but also when he was just normal – though, she had to admit, she did kind of have an extra spark those times that she saw him in a business suit. It was nice. _More _than nice. The strength that she gained by seeing that darkening look in his eyes fueled her completely. Never would she have imagined that she would ever enjoy that look – the lusting eyes, the shaking hands – but she did. And she fucking loved it.

Jane had worn the jacket because, like her combat boots laced to her mid-calf, it was a reminder of where she had come from. A token that symbolized how she had turned herself around, as well as a cue that she couldn't be a cocky little bitch anymore. She could be broken, she had been broken, and she had pieced herself back together. Like the new weapons and knives tucked into various places on her body, they served a reserve for adrenaline, energy, and a refueling reminder of what she was there to do and how she was supposed to go about doing it.

When she came upon the door to the warehouse – what Falcone had made into a shooting range as well as an area for some of his men to parry each other if they wished - instead, going to the back where she knew there would be a window leading into the small closet space. The warehouse wasn't exactly just a huge enclave of space, the closet held the only first-floor window though, and it would be the only way she could manage to get an eye into the warehouse without alerting anyone that she was there. Prance right through the front door? Yeah. She'd get a bullet to her fucking chest as quick as she could blink and realize just how bad of an idea that was. And, she'd definitely deserve it for being an idiot in the first place.

When she reached the grimy window, she slipped her fingers underneath it before slowly pushing it up. Gritting her teeth at the grating noise it made, she hoped that no one had heard it and stopped as soon as she made an opening that she could slip through. Thank _fuck_ for gymnastics when she was little – courtesy of her school system. The one thing that she had used from the public school system of Gotham was helping her break into a building. She snorted at the little irony and then returned to her task at hand. Placing her palms flat on the concrete ledge, she pulled herself up easily and dove head-first though the small opening, not letting go of the edge so that she didn't just go falling in.

Torso halfway in, she removed her hands and then held them over her head. Jane rocked forward and her body weight pushed her down the rest of the way, her hands catching her easily. She put one of her boots inside, then kicked off the wall so that her legs cartwheeled over her head before landing firmly on the ground, her body carrying the momentum as she now stood upright. Dusting her gloves off on a random towel at her right, she reached to her hip and took out a gun, cocking it and taking off the safety just in case. Better to be prepared than sorry.

Now that Jane was in the building and close to the door, she swore that she could make out…whimpering? What in the hell was in there, a dog? No…no, that was the clear sound of a woman. A male voice was arguing before quickly being silenced, and the woman squeaked. What the _fuck? _

Creeping towards the door, she kept her eyes on the floor so that she didn't step on anything that would clatter to the ground and give away her position inside the closet. She ducked her body down a little bit once she saw that the door had a small window cut at the top. Well, she thought with a semi-glad tone, at least she would be able to see what was going on outside without actually opening a door or anything. That saved her some trouble. When she reached the door, the voices picked back up again. Louder this time – someone more assertive was speaking now. Wait a minute… she knew that voice. Fucking Tyrone.

Sneering, she tightened her grip on the gun without thinking too much of it. That guy infuriated her to no end for some reason. Oh, wait, _reasons_ she had plenty of. The guy was far too rough for her liking, had held a grudge against her, broke into her apartment, destroyed her things, kidnapped Rebecca, and then shot at her. Yeah, _reasons? _She had plenty of them.

Moving her arm so that it dangled by her side, her other hand braced against the doorframe, body standing up slightly so that her eyes could peer through the window. The view was a little foggy from the dust that coated the window, but she could see most of the badly-lit room. The edges were dark, naturally, the lights being focused on the center of the room. Narrowing her eye, she could see Tyrone and a bunch of other men standing around three people in the center. A youngish white guy was strapped to a chair, another black guy of around the same age in another one, and a young girl sitting untied to another. She was unharmed compared to the other two, the men donning a few bruises and the white one a nasty looking black eye, but she was a mess. Red face, tears, and mused hair. Her clothes didn't appear disheveled though, which calmed Jane down a bit as she looked at the three. What was going on?

Jane shifted her position a little so that she could get a better look. Tyrone held a chain in his hands and he was swinging it around a little in a taunting manner. She scowled – playing with people like that pissed her off big time.

"Think you can just take over like that? That's not the way it works, _Jim_. You gotta earn that shit, and you haven't done a fucking thing ever since you joined the family," Tyrone spat angrily at the white guy. So _that_ was Jim. She couldn't really make out facial features very well from how far away she was, but at least now she knew who one of the three were.

"And you think you have?" Jim shot back with venom, contempt laced within his eyes and his tone. Jane smiled, kind of liking that the guy was still a bit brave enough to fire back at Tyrone. That, and she just liked anyone who seemed to hate Tyrone as much as she did. "You got crippled by a fucking girl." Her smile disappeared instantly. Hey! _She_ gave him that limp. Her mind was instantly changed about this Jim character, and she growled in the darkness. She wasn't just a _fucking girl_.

"I earned this limp by carrying out Maroni's duties." Tyrone fired back hotly. He lifted his hand and slapped the chain across Jim's chest. The girl screamed out, Jim groaning loudly as Tyrone let his hand drop down by his side. "What stripes have you earned? None. Because like I said, you haven't done a fucking damn thing to earn any sort of position in this family." He looked over at the girl, whose head was turned, staring at Jim. "You don't know a damn thing about nothing. You know what? I'm going to give you a lesson in family." He walked over to the girl, gripping the top of her hair. Slinging her off, she landed on the floor with a cry, hand reaching up to hold onto his as he pulled her up. "Here in the family? We _share_ everything."

Jane took a sharp intake of breath. No. Oh gods, _no_. Hand tightening on her gun, she watched with widening eyes as _both_ men began hollering at Tyrone, spewing curses and profanities as he pushed her into the arms of another man. "You bastard! She means nothing to you! She hasn't done anything!" Jim screamed, eagerly trying to get out of the bonds.

"Tyrone. Man, come on. That-that's not right. She hasn't done anything. She's not even a member of the family!" The black guy shouted.

"Take her to the closet and have your way. Then, come back out and let the others have a turn." Tyrone jutted his head towards the closet where Jane was. She cursed, scrambling backwards as the man came towards the door, the girl dragging behind him as she tried to claw her way back towards the two men.

"Jim! Will!" She screamed out. Jane ducked into one of the corners, concealed by large buckets of old concrete. Shutting her gun on safety, she shoved it into its' holster and took out a long knife instead, putting it into her front pocket of the jacket for easy reach if she needed it. She didn't plan on becoming involved tonight, but she was _not_ going to sit back and watch – and listen – to this girl get raped and not do anything about it. Fuck her promise to Bruce about not getting hurt or anything, this was something that she had to do.

Jane reached up and made sure that her mask was firmly fixed over her mouth. The door banged open, the girl's cries louder and mixing in with the screams of the men in the warehouse part. Jane couldn't see, but she heard the guy slap her down onto the ground before turning and slamming the door shut behind him. "Please, _please_ don't do this sir." The girl whimpered, and Jane closed her eyes at the pleading, waiting for the right time to jump out and take the guy. It would have to be quick so that the others wouldn't hear the guy bang around in the room. She would have to go straight for a pressure point and knock him out as soon as possible. Quietness was of essence right now.

"Shut up," the guy hissed and Jane heard the sound of skin meeting skin as he slapped her hard across the cheek. Jane peeked her head from around the bucket, watching with tight eyes and a nauseated feeling as he pushed the girl's wrists above her head with one of his hands. Her head was looking to the side, away from him and Jane, trying to ignore the man's lips on her neck. Jane rose from her knees and stepped around the buckets. She was careful to not make any sound, but when she got right up to him, he looked up and met her eyes. His mouth dropped open to growl at her when she knelt down and wrapped her hands around his stout neck, cutting off any words that he was going to say as she squeezed.

"Quiet," she hissed to the girl and pushed the guy off of her. The girl scrambled away and Jane swung her legs around to dig her knees into his arms, holding him down as she maintained her grip on his throat. The girl was quiet, scampered to the side. Jane held on a little longer until the man stopped struggling, his eyes fluttering closed, and she let up. If she held on any longer she would kill him, and through she despised him for the attempted rape of the girl, she was no longer that person who acted as judge, jury, and execution.

Rising from his body, she looked over at the girl cowering against the sacks. "You okay?" Jane whispered. The girl nodded, looking up at her with wide eyes. "What's your name and why are you all out there with Tyrone?"

"I'm S-Samantha. My brother Jim took control after Maroni was arrested and Tyrone wants to take it back for himself. He's going to kill us."

"_Was_." Jane corrected and turned on her heel, going back to the window. The two guys had stopped screaming, gags stuffed in their mouths from the looks of it. "Listen, stay in here, okay? I'm going to go out there and get your brother and…the other guy."

"Will. He's a close friend and a supporter of Jim." Samantha turned to look at the guy's body. "Will I be okay here?"

"He's not waking up any time soon," she assured her. "Be quiet and try to hide somewhere. It shouldn't take too long." Jane put her hand on the doorknob and slowly pushed it downwards. Slipping through the tiny opening as best she could, she inched her other hand inside her jacket, grasping her gun strapped there. She pulled it out and switched the safety off, pointing the barrel towards the ground as she pressed her back against the wall.

"You don't deserve half of what you think you do. You haven't even kept our money safe from fucking street robbers. What kind of leader allows that shit to just happen? A fucking _awful_ one." Jane stepped further away from the door, trying to decide what would be the best way to…enact some kind of action that wouldn't result in her head being blown off. "You're just a boy trying to prove himself a man. See where that shit's fucking got you? You're going to be begging me to kill you when I'm finished with you, your friend here, and your whore of a sister back there."

Tyrone picked the chain back up, twirling it in fast circles in the air before he slapped it down across Jim's chest. Jane winced at the haunting echo the chain made as it fell back to the ground. Fuck. That had to hurt. Tyrone did it again, and Jane couldn't take Jim's muffled cries any longer. Oh well. Fuck it. She wasn't much of a follow-the-plan type person anyway.

Lifting the gun, she aimed for Tyrone's leg – the one that she hadn't had the opportunity to shoot yet – and fired once. She immediately shot his left arm, and then turned her hands to the side to shoot the nearest henchman. The group of men recovered from the shock of seeing Tyrone fall to the ground, hissing loudly as he held onto his hurt arm with his right one, the chain long having been dropped. "Find that son of a bitch and bring him to me _now!_" He screamed, eyes searching the darkness behind him. But Jane had already moved, skittering along the wall as she slipped out of the grasp and view of the men who had turned to where she had been before.

She pulled the trigger again and again, piercing the legs of the men. A few of her shots she missed because of their frantic movements to come towards her, and before long she was met with the empty sound of a vacant clip. She shoved the gun back into its holster, turned, and ran to the left wall in the dark. Jane came right up on a random guy who had broken apart from the others, and she bounded into his chest. Instantly, she lashed out, moving in close like Bruce said. He swung for her head, and she pushed her arm upwards to block it, and then reared her right fist back before plummeting it towards the center of his face. Her hand instantly was wet with blood from his smashed nose. Jane took the opportunity and brought her knee upwards into his stomach like Bruce had taught her, jamming it up into his ribcage before jerking her calf forwards and effectively kicking him away.

Another guy came behind her, and she pivoted on one leg, the other forming a straight line as it connected solidly with his side in an impressive kick. Smug for a second, she felt proud that she had managed to do that _finally_. Mega points for Bruce and his mad teaching skills.

Stepping in closer, she jammed her elbow across his jaw, snapping his head to the side. Bringing her palms in towards her chest slightly, she pushed them outwards as hard as she could, connecting firmly with the top center of his chest and pushing him down to the ground. Looking up, she saw that more men were coming her way, having heard the scuffle and she turned on her heel, running towards the back wall where she had started. "Get the fucking bitch!"

Jane snarled in Tyrone's direction even though she knew that he couldn't see her. A stocky man came towards her, instantly swinging his arms, Jane bending down to avoid getting hit. She dropped to the ground and swiped her leg across his. He fell on his side, and Jane stood up, kicking him solidly in the gut to keep him down before lifting her arm to brace against the punch of another. There were two men now, one behind her and the other in front of her. She turned to the side, stepping backwards a little so that they were both in her eyesight now.

One rushed at her instantly, reaching for her neck, and she swooped low again, but when she came up, she used the momentum and powered her fist in a sold uppercut to his stomach. Then, grasping his shoulders as she struggled to breathe, she jumped up and kicked the other guy in his face with her right boot. Hearing the satisfying crunch of a broken nose, she landed on the ground, and then swung her arms to the side. She brought them back across her other guy's neck, gripping him and forcing him to the side.

From behind her, a man wrapped his arms around her chest, pulling her into the light. Jane pulled her body backwards and upwards, gripping his hands on her upper chest for leverage, and then rocked her body forward so that her legs were touching the ground. She rotated her hands, the guy slinging over her back and tumbling to the floor. Jane put one hand on the ground, taking in a breath as her chest tightened from exertion. Damn. How many more guys were there?

Apparently, there were two, and they both came at her the same time, a rope stretched between them to tie her up. When she stood, they ran towards her, and she to them, dropping to her knees to slide from underneath the rope and back into the darkness. She leapt up, turning sharply on the balls of her feet to face them as she reached for her other gun. Pulling it out quickly, she fired a shot into each of their kneecaps. A pain-searing shot, but _damn_. She was getting fucking tired.

Tyrone was the only one left of that original group, and when she stepped back into the light towards him, she saw that he was practically foaming at the mouth he was so pissed. "_Fucking bitch_, huh? Tyrone, I believe this is like the third time I've managed to put you on the ground." She snickered at him, pocketing her gun back into its holster. He narrowed his eyes at her, and she reached up, pulling down the turtleneck off of her mouth. She didn't really give a fuck anymore. Jane wanted him to know that it was her that had managed to beat him so _yet again_. "Losing your touch?"

"Rot in hell." He spat back and she chuckled. Reaching into her pocket of her jacket, she took out the knife that she had put in their earlier and walked to the two men in the chairs.

"Samantha, you can come out now," she called to the closet door. Jane worked the knife over the black guy's – Will? – rope bindings. Once he was free, she took the rope and brushed it off of him so that he could get the gag out of his mouth. Going around though, she ignored Jim's and instead chose to stand in front of her. "_You_," she said with narrowed eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. "You're probably one of the biggest assholes I've ever had the chance to meet, and believe me, I've met a lot of assholes and I haven't even really spoken to you. _I _gave Tyrone that fucking limp, and _I _ not only saved your life, but also the lives of your friend here and your sister. I'm a lot more than just some _fucking girl_ and next time? Try to not sound like a misogynistic pig."

Walking back around, she swiped the knife down his bindings, but didn't brush them off. He could go through a bit more trouble for being such a fucking douchebag. Rolling her eyes at him, she looked to the door to see Samantha coming out. The girl practically ran over to where they stood and jumped into her brother's arms. "How did you know that we were here?" Will asked her as she stepped around from behind the chairs.

Jane shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "I didn't. I came to check out the new leader of the crime family, and I just happened to stumble upon you guys here." Looking over her shoulder, she eyed Tyrone. "I see there are a few problems. Come on, let's go outside and talk a little more." Turning on her heel, she walked towards the door, ignoring the look of pure loath from Tyrone. She didn't have to look over her shoulder to check if the other three were following her. Sure that they would follow she stepped over a guy's unconscious body that was by the door. She pushed it open and was met with a harsh wind. Gotham weather annoyed the hell out of her sometimes.

Going down an alley, she went to the end and turned to face the three that had, indeed, followed her. Of course they would – idiots, they didn't seem to be. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave them each a leveled look. "Okay, so I'm guessing that Tyrone was trying to usurp Jim-bo's power. Am I right?"

"You look familiar…" Jim said and narrowed his eyes at her, roaming them up and down her quickly as if trying to figure out where he had seen her. "You're Jane, aren't you? The woman who betrayed Falcone and Maroni by going to the police all those years."

"Jim, does it matter man?" Will gave his friend a hard look. "She just saved your ass, and not to mention ours. I'm sure she had her reasons."

"I don't need you to defend me Will, though I do appreciate it. As for you Jim, yes, I did _betray_ Falcone and Maroni. We're not talking about me though. I'm here to talk to you."

"I don't have to answer to a traitor." Jim snarled at her. He took a step forward and Jane arched an eyebrow, not moving as Will snapped an arm to clutch at Jim's.

"Dude. _No_."

"She betrayed the family! Does that mean nothing to you, Will? She's probably going to call the cops on us now and get us arrested! Think! Why else would she be out here? What do you think she's going to do with the guys in there?"

"Jim-" Samantha piped up, "don't start that now. Can't we just talk first? I mean, we kind of owe it to her…"

"Yeah." Jane agreed with a firm nod to Jim and a smile on her face. "You do. My business is my own and I'm _not_ going to have someone like you throw your judgments at me. You don't even know the whole story, kid, so don't act like you do. Now, I'm not going to call the cops on you three or anything, though I will make sure that Tyrone is taken care of. So will you calm the fuck down?"

Jim clenched his thick jawline, a movement that reminded Jane of her own habit of tightening her jaws when she was mad. He stared at her for a few moments and she met his eyes blankly, waiting for him to get his act together and stop acting like a child. Finally, he gave her a curt nod, and shrugged off Will's grip on his arm. "Fine. But if you go back on your word –"

"You won't be able to do a damn thing about it." Jane sighed and rolled her eyes again. Seriously, who the fuck did this guy think he was? Biting the inside of her cheek, she tried to think of what she was going to do now. Maybe… Yeah. Maybe that could work. She seemed to have Samantha and Will on her side at least. Jim seemed to dislike her as much as she disliked him, so that could be a little problem. Oh well, he was just going to have to put his big boy boxers on and fucking deal with that. "How long have you three been involved in the mob?"

"Jim and I joined when we were twenty. So about five and a half years." Will said and Jane snorted. Mere _children_. "Samantha here isn't a member of the family. She's Jim's sister."

"Yeah, I got that part. So you two seriously have only been in the family for five and a half years? Damn. Falcone normally didn't start dealing out hard jobs until someone was in there for seven years for loyalty purposes." She dropped her hands to her hips, laughing a little as Jim gave her a hard, mugged stare. "So, with all of your expertise and knowledge, you just decided to take over?"

"Yeah. And how long were you in the family before you turned on Falcone?"

"I was in the mob for ten years, and even I didn't do a whole lot of shit. I mainly just did whatever Falcone asked whenever he asked for it." She shrugged. "Then again, I had way more experience those first few years than you two have had through your whole lives. Tyrone? Yeah, he's been there for seventeen years. No wonder it pissed him off when you two decided to take control. I can't believe you didn't try to gain a stronger backing before you took power. _This_ is what happens when you do stupid shit like that."

"Look, we don't need you to judge us. Get to your damn point and then leave us." Jim snapped at her.

"Oh kid, you are _way_ in over your head." Jane shook her head. That guy was really starting to work on the last fucking nerve that she had left. Did he not realize that she had a fucking _gun_ – and not to mention knives – and he had nothing? Suddenly, she found that she didn't really blame Tyrone for wanting to punch the guy. He was so fucking temperamental and damn annoying. "Do you three actually like the crime life? I mean, I know what it was like, having been down that way myself. I can tell you that life without the restraints of the family is so much better."

"What are you trying to say? That we should leave the family and live out normal lives or something?" Will asked her, considerably calmer than Jim was. "We can't do that. Not with the chaos that's going on right now. Everyone's trying to climb on top, there are robberies, there's so much stuff that needs to be stabilized or else a lot of people are going to die."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to return to a normal life. I only asked if you _like_ working for the mob. I'm not disillusioned enough to think that you would be able to assimilate into a life like that – God knows I haven't had luck with that. I'm just saying that if you want a way out, a way to actually help out Gotham, I can help you."

Jim snorted at her, shaking his head. "So, what? We're going to run around with masks and tight black outfits battling crime and shit? Like fucking Batman or something? No _thanks_."

A surge of anger pushed through Jane and she stepped forward. She moved so fast that Jim didn't have enough time to block the high kick she sailed into the right side of his face. "I'm sick and tired of your _fucking_ attitude. So chill the _fuck_ out." He caught himself on the wall, head snapping around to glare angrily at her as he lifted a hand to cup his jaw. Jim pushed away and stalked towards her. He moved his arm in preparation for a hit, and once again she went into the routine Bruce had drilled into her skull. Arm up to block his hit with her forearm; hold it there solidly; use left hand to give solid punch into the upper chest; swipe right arm down and to the side, curling it around his arm before yanking him towards her and into a circle so that his back was to her chest; push forward; then good, hard kick to the lower back.

Jim once again caught himself on the wall and Jane turned to face the other two. "Is he always this pleasant?"

"Only every damn day now." Will remarked with a pleased smirk. His eyes went past Jane to where Jim was against the wall. "Man, you got your ass _beat._"

"Shut up," Jim groaned. Jane looked over her shoulder to see him push off the wall slowly, his head hanging a little as he walked back to their little shitty circle.

""Now that we're ready to talk seriously," Jane glared at Jim, "I can tell you that no, we won't be wearing costumes. But – if you're interested – we can definitely _battle crime and shit_. And by battling crime, I mean working our way into the mob and ripping it apart. _All_ mobs – not just the Falcone family. Ever since Carmine was put into jail, the other more dangerous mobs have risen in power, taking control over what Maroni has allowed to slip away. There's more bloodshed and riots between the unwatched gangs and more people are being put into danger. Batman can't help the city on his own."

"So we're going to be like the unofficial sidekicks?" Will asked.

She shook her head. "I don't _do_ sidekicks. I have direct contact with good ole' batsy, and I can guarantee that he'll be on our side. He can offer protection, of course if you need it. I was going to snoop around the mob myself, but I need people on the inside to tell me what's going on. Which is where you three come in."

"You're asking us to snitch." Jim confirmed, lifting his head to look at her.

"Maybe. If you're interested." Jane shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest. "Living in the mob – even if you're on top – isn't near as fun as making your own rules. I'm not saying that you have to do it or anything, but what happened tonight? That's only the beginning. More and more men are going to do the same thing that Tyrone did, and there's not always going to be someone around to help you out. However…if you team up with me, I can offer you the best protection that I can provide. Not much, but it's a hell of a lot more than you have now."

Will looked over at Jim, silently trying to convey something. "Come on. What happened tonight? It'll only happen again and again unless we do something about it. I mean, Samantha needs more than just us two to help her out. Ever since you got on top, it's like a huge target has been taped to her."

"There's always Tanya –"

"Look you don't have to make a decision right now. It's a big deal, I get that. Tomorrow night, meet me at the south docks at ten to give me a firm answer." Jane began to walk past them, brushing between Jim and Will as she put her fingers to her turtleneck. Pausing, she stopped and called over her shoulder, "and _don't_ be late."

* * *

Jane and Bruce had already decided to meet at the batcave after they were both finished. Of course she had made it back long before he had, and had drifted off to sleep on the desk by the time he came in. Bruce parked the Tumbler, Jane not even moving from the echo of the loud vehicle, and Bruce chuckled in amusement. Naturally, she would be tired. It had been a long day and night for the both of them. Climbing out of the tank, he took off his suit and replaced it with sweats and a black tee-shirt – pretty much a staple piece for him nowadays.

She still wore her suit, but her jacket and boots were off. Her jacket formed a pillow on the desktop and her shoes were strewn in two different places. Apparently, it looked as if she had stumbled in and took them off as she walked before she collapsed on his files, narrowly missing the keyboard of his computer system. He looked at her for a moment, and then went over to the container that held his suit whenever he didn't wear it. Putting it in its proper position, he closed it, pressing a button so that it disappeared back into the ground.

A muffled little groan came from behind him, and since the two of them were the only ones occupying the batcave, he assumed that she was waking up. When he turned to look over his shoulder at her, he saw that he was right – of course. Jane rolled over, almost falling off the desk and he turned completely to move to catch her as if he could get there fast enough anyway. She didn't fall to the super hard concrete ground though and yawned loudly enough that it echoed in the low-ceilinged area.

She stretched out like a cat, legs pointing and arms high over her head before she rolled onto her stomach and curled her back. Then, with a gasp-moan-sound, she collapsed back on the desk, one arm dangling off the edge of the desk and one leg propped up in the air awkwardly. Bruce crossed his arms over his chest again, not stopping the laugh that rumbled in his chest as he watched her move. She woke up curiously sometimes, her body positioned weirdly on the desk. But, he knew how tired she must be and didn't blame her for taking advantage of the extra time. He walked towards her, and sat in the office chair that had been kicked away at some point during her sleep or in her attempt at getting on top of the desk.

Watching her like this, Bruce was once more struck by how pretty of a woman she was. At first when he met her, he thought her rather ordinary looking. Not ugly or plain, but average. Jane hadn't been one to stand out in a crowd, blending in perfectly with a crowd. Now, every time he looked at her she appeared more and more beautiful to his eyes. A hard, angled jawline with symmetrical features: large blue-grey eyes, small nose that curved upwards just a bit at the end, full lips, and high cheekbones. All of this set off by collar-length blonde hair that tumbled around her face in a slight wave.

She was beautiful. Features strong to match her inner strength, yet innocent and feminine. He knew that she rarely saw herself as much of a woman, but Bruce admired her for that quality. It made her even more of a woman – a strong one, and not just because she could throw a punch. Jane had such an internal power that he admired more than anything, and underneath that was a tenderness that she only allowed to show in certain times.

The more he looked at her, the more he spoke to her, the more he touched her, the more that he was around her presence made him fall even more in love with her.

"You better have brought food," she slurred, voice muffled by her arm in front of her face, "or I'm kicking your ass." Jane's eyes slid open, looking at him sleepily.

Bruce chucked, always finding some kind of humor in whatever she had to say, even if she was 'threatening' him somehow. "I'll have Alfred bring you some breakfast. Why? Are you hungry, dear little Jane?"

She groaned, closing her eyes and let her body fall backwards so that she faced the ceiling instead of him. Her hand that had been dangling towards the ground flopped against her flat, muscled stomach and she sighed in discontent. "I'm fucking starving. If I was a cannibal, I'd so eat you right now." Bruce rolled his chair forward so that he was sitting up against the desk. Folding his hands on top of her stomach, he pillowed his head a little as he rested it against her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sleeping," he stated as if it were the most natural thing to do – and the most natural place to lay his head. "You were sleeping, so why can't I?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe it's because you're lying on my fucking stomach." To emphasize her sentence, her belly grumbled underneath his ear, eliciting another laugh from him.

Bruce slid his hands out from underneath his head so that now he was lying completely against her. Ear to her stomach, he closed his eyes as he listened to the noises it made. "You're right – you _are_ hungry."

"No shit, Sherlock. How'd you ever figure _that_ out?" She huffed, and put her hand in his hair. They both had a thing for each other's hair for some weird reason. "You're so _smart_."

"Sarcasm is not needed, Jane," he scolded her and poked her side.

"Sarcasm is _always _needed Mr. Wayne," she tugged his hair. Taking in a deep breath, she twirled his strands around her fingers, messing with his slicked-back hair that came from the helmet. "So how was last night? Was it as exciting as mine? But I asked you first so you have to answer before I do."

He furrowed his eyebrows a little at that. As exciting as hers? Yes, his had been exciting, but she had promised to not get involved in anything. Perhaps she had only been speaking of information that she had gained from eavesdropping. But would she consider that 'exciting'? Maybe, if something exceptionally devious had been uncovered in her presence. But…Bruce seriously doubted that what she had heard was what she was speaking of. He knew her far too well to merely think that she thought something like that was entertaining in the least. So…what had transpired?

"I actually _do_ have good news – exciting night it was indeed," he said and lifted his head off of her stomach to look at her. He was excited about the news, but then again a little nervous at telling her. He had yet to figure out how she would react when he told her about the events. "I managed to nab Crane. He's in police custody as we speak."

Her eyes widened at the thought of the doctor finally being thrown into jail. Snapping up, she swung her legs over the desk and eyed him seriously. "Really? You caught _Crane_? When? How?"

"Around two this morning. He was exchanging drugs with Chechen, and I interrupted." Bruce smiled at her and scooted the chair forward so that he could put his hands gently on her waist. She was still staring at him with a slack jaw, trying to process the information that he had given her. It must be shock – Maroni and Crane behind bars? That was two of the people she hated the most finally off the streets and out of her life.

"Wow," she breathed out. Reaching a hand up to her hair, she pushed what pieces had fallen out of her bun during her sleep. Jane took in a deep breath as if she were trying to suck in the information as much as she was trying to put it into her mind. "That's _wonderful_, Bruce." She smiled, and he returned it more so, watching the glimmer of happiness appear in her eyes. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she squeezed them, laughing a little like a child. "That's fantastic! Oh my gosh…Crane in jail where he belongs. That's a sight I'd pay a hefty sum to see."

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, Jane tugged him forward so that the two of them were in a nice hug. He slid his hands behind her back more and pulled her towards him as well as he rested his head against her chest, her chin on top of his head. Closing his eyes, he breathed her in, loving how the two of them fit so well together no matter how they were holding onto each other. Even like his, Bruce knew that they were almost welded and molded for each other, fitting like two pieces of a puzzle, two halves of the same whole.

"Thank you for getting him. The only thing that could make this better was if Rebecca was here. She'd love to hear the news as well." Jane commented a bit sadly. Bruce knew that her thoughts were going to the pretty young woman that the two of them had rescued – the girl that Jane had bonded with so easily. Somehow, Jane had become attached to her, and the fact that she was in danger yet again didn't sit well with her. Oftentimes, Bruce would wake up in the mornings to Jane whispering Rebecca's name. She was riddled with guilt over Rebecca's capture, and her dreams revealed that she placed the blame purely on herself. Bruce never brought it up, not wanting to approach the subject of Jane's inner turmoil until she began the conversation herself. She would want to speak about it in due time, hopefully soon. Maybe the arrest of Crane would appease her some.

"We'll get her. I promise you that." He spoke against her chest. Desperately, he wanted to comfort her somehow yet didn't know how to go about it. What could he say to lighten her mood? To cleanse her thoughts for the moment? To just enjoy that Crane was no longer out there?

Jane sighed and slid a hand up to bury it in his hair, turning her head to place a gentle kiss atop there. "I know. You're trying your hardest and I appreciate that very much." Pausing, she sat back. Bruce kept his hands around her waist, but moved so that he was sitting back in the chair instead of leaning on her. "As for my news," she gave a small smile, "I have something that might interest you. Spur of the moment thing, purely – I found us three possible allies. Jim Murdoch, his sister, and a close friend of theirs, a guy named Will."

"Why would Jim ally himself with us? He's head of the family now. He won't need to form any kind of links to anyone."

"I saved them last night. Tyrone and a bunch of other men are not happy at all with Jim's assumption of the leadership role, and it was the first attempt to overthrow him and take the power for themselves. I know that I told you I wouldn't get involved, but I couldn't help it! They were about to seriously hurt Samantha. I couldn't help but think of Rebecca, and I could _not_ sit and watch while they did that to her. So, I kind of went in and beat the shit out of them – they're all being detained by Gordon at the station as we speak, just like Crane. I offered them a way out of the life, apparently I'm not the only one who has an attachment on someone that can't defend themselves properly, and they're meeting me tonight to give me an answer. Think of it Bruce – full intel on _all_ the crime families around. We can easily find out where Rebecca could be hidden and where Alex is!" Her voice was getting higher and louder with the excitement, eyes brightening as she thought over everything that this alliance could do for them.

"And you trust them?" He asked and she looked down at him, confused. "We can't extend a helping hand to people that we don't even know first. It could be dangerous – they could easily betray us without remorse. They're mob members with a lot of power."

Her eyes narrowed. "I was a mob member once, and I too had a lot of power."

"That's not what I mean. Don't take it that way, Jane."

"Bruce, it's hard for me to explain it, but for some reason I can feel that they won't turn against us like that. They only know a little bit about me and nothing about you. They won't betray us. They're survivors, I could tell that last night just by watching them. Jim's a little bit of a hothead, and Samantha needs to be toughened up, but Will? There's so much potential in him, and he has a lot of influence on the other two. I could see that he wasn't happy at all with their lifestyle, and if I could sway him, I can sway _them_."

Her eyes were solid with conviction, and Bruce saw that she fully believed whatever she was saying. He wouldn't be able to move her from this idea no matter what. All he could do was be there just in case the three did slip up. Heaven help them if they did. He didn't kill, but he had no qualms with making someone a punching bag, especially if it came to Jane. It had taken all of his restraint not to impale Crane on a stake a few hours earlier. She wouldn't be persuaded against her trust in these people, so there was really no use in trying. With a nod, he signaled his agreement in her plan and she smiled broadly at him.

"I knew you'd understand," she said and gripped his upper arms tightly, causing him to wince a little. She jerked her hand back and noticed the gash there. Cutting her eyes back to him, she glared angrily. "You didn't tell me you were hurt." Quickly, she opened one of the side drawers where she knew was a first aid kit. She grabbed it and handed it to him. "I'm not sowing the damn thing up. Needles give me the fucking creeps for some reason."

"You're such a girl," he joked with a roll of his eyes. Her foot lashed out, kicking him in the chest – right where he had a huge bruise.

"Oops. Girls tend to do shit like that," she batted her eyes at him. Bruce grimaced, then took out a thread and needle from the kit, going to work on his gash. "How can you do that? Looks like it hurts like hell."

He shrugged, threading it through his skin and wincing a bit. "You kind of get used to it." Jane shook her head and leaned back, her palm pressing against the keyboard. Pulling her hand back, she looked over her shoulder to see tapes from a bank robbery play on one of the screens.

"Why is that guy dressed as a clown?" She asked, turning her whole torso around to look a bit more clearly. "What bank is this?"

Bruce made another stitch. "It's just his disguise, I guess, and that bank is one of Gambol's. He robbed it yesterday."

"He robbed a fucking _mob_ bank? Damn. That's pretty fucking bold. Are you trying to track him down?"

"Bringing down the whole mob is more important right now." Jane shrugged and turned back to him. The clown could wait in his opinion – just a silly small time criminal for the moment. He had to admit though, he was a bit curious about the whole getup. Dramatic and out-there. What kind of message was he trying to send? Then again, the guy might not be trying to send a message or declare a statement. He could just be crazy.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: And this, my friends, marks the first time in which I am not a full chapter ahead of posting. I've run into a brick with Chapter 7 now, and I hope that it doesn't last too long. I really, really want to get this completed and I'm worried that my muse is slowly disappearing. :(**

**Special thanks to: Medisha, Sova, diveunder, and Lady Ishtar12123. You guys rock :D**

* * *

Jane huffed, hair that had fallen once more in her face fluttering upwards while she leaned back on her palms. Eyes on Bruce's quite pathetic and slow attempt at stitching up his own wound, she couldn't help but feel a weightless floatyness surround her. Not only had Bruce given his approval of her idea – not that she expected him to do anything else nor would it change her mind – but he had revealed that Crane was gone. She no longer had to worry about him. Even if she hadn't concerned herself with him too much beforehand, knowing that he wasn't on the streets anymore was a huge relief to her.

She just wished that Rebecca could be here to share her joy.

Crane was a monster for what he had put the young girl through. For what he put everyone at Arkham through. For murdering Eric so horrendously by _stampeding_ him. There was no doubt in Jane's mind that the doctor was evil to the core, twisted and sick in the mind. He should be dead. The thought filled her so ravenously that she recalled the last time the two had come into contact. She literally had held his life in her hands and had instead turned away from killing him. Bruce had influenced her too strongly, and that mindset was still here. That didn't change the fact that she would like to see him die. Dead. Nonexistent. Completely erased from the world.

She wouldn't kill him herself or arrange for his death – two things that she could very well do though. To do so would be to disappoint Bruce, something that she didn't want to do in the least. If Crane were to mysteriously 'disappear', Bruce would probably not suspect her. But the guilt of knowing that she had betrayed something even without his knowledge would torment her to no end. She would have to look at his eyes every day and know that she was keeping something horrible away from him. He would figure it out eventually. Bruce was no moron and he could read Jane like a book. Jane held back no secrets now if he asked since he had come to almost know exactly what she was thinking and when – much like she could do with him.

Humming, Jane looked past Bruce's shoulder and her face brightened considerably. "Alfred!" She said with a chipperness that surprised even herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the sizable lunchbox in his hands and the coffee mug in the other, and her grin broadened considerably. Stomach growling, she had to hold herself back from running and attacking Alfred like a rabid dog. "You brought food!"

The butler strolled towards where Jane sat on the desk, Bruce in front of her. Bruce was still intently focused on his gash, though his hand shook whenever he pushed the needle through his skin. Gross. _Fuck_ that. Needles always gave her the creeps for some reason, and she would only tend to her wound or anyone else's with one of those sharp pointy things if it was life-threatening. And, seriously? Bruce's wound wasn't _that_ bad. She snorted and his eyes flickered up to hers momentarily. The big baby.

"It'll be nice when Wayne Manor is rebuilt. Maybe you two will sleep in the mansion instead of not sleeping at all," Alfred spoke as he set the bag of food down on the desk beside Jane's thigh. "Hello Jane. You look a mess."

She shrugged, not offended in the least by the statement. "Sleeping on desks will do that to you," she wiped her eyes and then latched her hands on the bag beside her, tearing the Velcro sealing with a ravenous energy. "Please tell me you brought those fuck-awesome biscuits of yours."

"Of course," he replied and she gave him a grateful smile. Alfred really did make the best damn biscuits in the _world_ according to her. Sure enough, there were ten neatly wrapped biscuits on top, and she grabbed two, setting them in her lap while Alfred turned to look at Bruce. "You do make a bloody mess when you try stitch yourself up." Jane looked up from the steaming and freshly baked pieces of heaven in her lap to see that Alfred was right. Instead of really helping the wound, Bruce was only making it bleed more and more, aggravating it.

"Yeah," Bruce chuckled a little, "it makes me learn from my mistakes though." Jane took a big bite out of one and raised her eyebrow at his comment.

"Well you ought to be pretty knowledgeable by now then," Alfred said. Bruce handed Alfred the needle, and he began working on the deep gash himself. What had happened there anyways?

"I agree with the butler." Jane commented, reaching into the bag to toss Bruce a biscuit. "There's also some sausage and bacon in here if you want it. Better hurry and grab it before I eat it all though." She balled up the wrappings from her first biscuit, throwing it at Bruce's head before unveiling her second one. Damn she was hungry.

Bruce scowled at her and she returned it with a smirk. "Of course you agree with the butler. You two always team up against me." He took a bite out of his food and then set it down, wiping the grease off of his hands with his sweatpants. "My armor needs to be redesigned. I'm carrying too much weight – I need to be faster."

"Maybe you should just lose a few pounds like a normal person. How about you start today? I'll eat your portion of the breakfast to help you get going."

Alfred chuckled a little, sticking the needle into a particularly tender part on Bruce's arm. "I'm sure Mr. Fox will be obliged." He paused, examining the wound through his glasses. "Did you get mauled by a tiger?"

"It was a dog." Jane choked on her biscuit and beat her chest with her fist. Did he seriously just say that he got _that_ from a dog?

"What?" Alfred said, leaning forward a little as if he was afraid that he had misheard Bruce.

"It was a _big_ dog." Bruce motioned with his other arm as if it were to explain that the dog was the size of a polar bear. Jane couldn't stop laughing at Bruce's defensive facial expression, and she earned a swat on the leg by him. She shook her head at him, and got another biscuit. "There were more copycats last night with guns."

Bruce had been having the problem of running into citizens showing up at crime scenes with weapons posing as him. It had been happening more and more frequently recently, and Jane didn't really know what to think about the situation. On one hand, she was glad that Gothamites had finally became fed up with the ineffective police corps and took matters into their own hands instead of just watching everything happen. But then again, they were dressing up at Batman and they didn't discriminate between killing someone and not. She was a little frightened that if it became more and more popular it would stain Batman's reputation. The whole matter was intensely confusing and while she could understand them dressing up to conceal their identities, she didn't understand why they didn't choose something else. Like put a ski mask or something like that on instead of trying to look like Batman.

"Well maybe you should hire them and take the weekend off." Alfred said.

Bruce laughed weakly. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said that I wanted to _inspire_ people."

"I know," Alfred said, and threaded the needle one final time before tying it off and cutting what little remained. Jane looked at the stitching and decided that if she were to ever need medical attention that required sewing, she would go to Alfred _not_ Bruce. "But things have improved."

Jane swallowed a bite of sausage down. "Like with Harvey Dent. He's doing a good job. Have you looked at him yet?"

Bruce reached around her to press something on the keyboard. Jane turned to see that the screen had switched from the robbery tapes to footage of Dent at a speech conference, him walking and talking with Gordon, and a whole bunch of other stuff. "I have – closely. I need to know if he can be trusted."

"Definitely," Jane nodded furiously, and looked back to Bruce. "He never got involved with the mob no matter how many times they tried. He's a good guy, I've met him once." She chomped down on another biscuit. If Bruce didn't start grabbing she was going to eat it all to herself quickly.

"Are you more interested in his character of his social circle?"

"Rachel can protect herself just fine I think. Who she spends her time with is her business." Bruce said and Jane nodded in agreement, suddenly feeling like a bobble head. With Dent, Rachel would only be safer. Sure, there was the whole thing that they would make more enemies the further Dent continued his war against the mob families, but Rachel was almost untouchable. Harvey wasn't stupid and he wouldn't risk Rachel like that. And with Dent, Bruce, and Jane watching her? She was probably the safest woman in Gotham.

"I trust that you don't have me followed on my days off." Alfred said as Bruce stood, reaching for the bag. He grabbed the last biscuit wrapping and gave her a sharp glare. Jane shrugged her shoulders and gave him an innocent look. He should have got food earlier.

"If you ever took one I might," Bruce put the biscuit down on an adjoining chair, turned, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He shed it, throwing it behind the table. The fluorescent lights made his bruises stand out against his skin, and even though Jane had seen the bruises and scars many times before, they seemed much worse now. He reached for a white dress shirt.

"Know your limits, Mr. Wayne."

"Batman has no limits," Bruce remarked and turned, drawing the shirt on over his shoulders. He began buttoning it, and before long they were expertly done. None put in the wrong spots or anything like Jane did. _Asshole_.

"Well, you do sir."

"Well, can't afford to know them."

"What's going to happen on the day that you find them out?" Jane started feeling a tad bit uncomfortable now. She knew that Alfred didn't wholly approve of Bruce's lifestyle, and he was obviously concerned with the sight of the bruises on Bruce.

"We all know how much you like to say _I told you so_." Bruce smiled, attempting to lighten the mood that had dampened a little.

"On that day, Mr. Wayne, even I won't want to. Probably." Alfred smiled at him a little.

* * *

Rebecca woke and realized that she was lying on a bed this time instead of a floor. Her right arm was stretched out behind her awkwardly, and when she tried to pull it to cocoon it to her body like her left one, she found that she couldn't move it. Instead, the burning sensation of ripping skin met her, and then the cold feel of metal became more prominent. Instantly she let up the pressure, and jerking her head over her shoulder, she saw that her right hand was handcuffed to the bed railing. She gasped, quickly swinging her legs over the side so that her bare feet touched the ground and the sheets bunched around her waist, falling off her legs so that they were exposed to the rather cold air.

Where was she? What was this place? She didn't recognize anything at all in the room when she looked around as she kept tugging her hand. Whimpering, she regarded her attached wrist once more, tugging it with all her strength. It was no use though. She couldn't even slip her palm out of the tightly latched cuff. Sighing exasperatedly, she fell back onto the bed, her arm straining slightly and she squirmed, uncomfortable. Damn. What was she going to do?

The fact that she was staring at a blank wall dawned on her, and she looked over her shoulder to spot the closed door that presumably led outside the room. No memory of where she was or why she was here came into her mind. There was a… light haze around one corner of her mind when she thought about it, but trying to grab at those memories was like remembering a dream that one dreamed nights before. It was like fog, her grasp dropping when her fingertips just brushed against them slightly. Something was…odd. Terribly odd.

She could feel it. Even though she didn't know it, Rebecca could definitely sense that somehow, this whole situation that she was in was not good at all. Well, she mused as she looked down at her ripped shorts and a tattered tee shirt, at least she was dressed. Swinging her legs back over onto the bed, she settled down into the twin-sized mattress, knowing that it was pointless to try to escape. But, judging by her ankle as it caught the light from the window, she had tried to escape sometime before…

It as bloodied still, but not horribly grotesque. So she had been tied at the ankle before her wrist. When had that been? Shrugging, she realized that she didn't really know at all. Like how she was handcuffed to the bed, everything else was also shrouded in mystery. She knew her name, at least. Rebecca James. Aged twenty. Or was it nineteen? Age was useless anyways in her situation.

Lifting a hand to her nest of hair, she ratted it up a little more before soothing it down. There was no use in trying to look presentable – she felt as if she as covered head to foot in nothing but grime, dirt, and sweat anyways. But, she didn't have anything else to do with her hand right now besides bury it into her wad of hair.

The door opened behind her and Rebecca stiffened. Eddie? Slowly, she dropped her hand and looked over her shoulder, but instead of being met with the aloof glare of her captor, all she saw was Harley draped against the door. Her white-blonde hair in high pigtails, their ends died in red and black, a baggy dirty black shirt hanging off of her otherwise curvy form, legs bare and calves laced with knee-high combat boots. Harley's face was clear of make-up and she had a few smudges of dust around her temples as well as a fading bruise on the right side of her jaw.

Eyes as creepy as ever, Harley smiled broadly at Rebecca. Her body fell against the doorframe, and she let it turn so that her back now rested against it completely, eyes closing as she rolled it to stare straight ahead, no longer watching while Rebecca scrambled around as best she could to keep Harley in sight. It was hard with her hand handcuffed to the bed, and she was only able to get her back to the wall and her head turned to the door.

Harley laughed, the sound reminiscent of glass shards scraping on in the inside of Rebecca's ears. Why did she have such a weird way of talking? It was like she was a woman mocking a young child. "Eddie's got ya cooped up in here all to himself," she said and lifted a hand to play with a pigtail. "I don't think that's very fair. Everyone knows that you're supposed to share your toys." Harley looked to see Rebecca shiver on the couch and she laughed again, throwing her head to hang it against her right shoulder.

"Eddie will be back soon…" Rebecca's voice was shaking. She pulled her knees underneath her so that she sat on her heels. Harley gave her an odd look, her leg dropping from where it was bent against the door to land with a heavy _clunk_ on the floor. Swallowing thickly, Rebecca tried to force her eyes to remain on Harley's large ones. "He won't like it if you mess with me."

"It's not as if you would remember it anyway. Besides, Eddie won't stand a chance against Mister J _Becky_. Can I call you Becky? Becks? Rebba? What do you prefer? I like _Becks_ myself." She twisted her torso so her shoulder rested against it once more. Rebecca tried to keep her trepidation and fear out of her eyes – this woman gave her the chills. She'd rather deal with Alex or Eddie over Harley and Joker. So far, Eddie had done a good job of keeping everyone else away. Why wasn't he here now?

"Um…Becks is fine," Rebecca mumbled and earned a smile from Harley. The woman pushed herself off of the door and pranced towards the bed before jumping on it. She laid on her stomach, placed her chin in her hands and her legs kicked up in the air.

"You're really pretty Becks." Harley commented. "But don't make eyes at Mister J – he's _mine_. Isn't he wonderful?"

"I wouldn't really know," Rebecca lied. No, she wanted to say, wonderful was something that he was _not_.

Harley seemed not to notice, her eyes slipping into dreaminess. "He's swell. So smart and handsome." She sighed and rolled over onto her back. A huge, sappy smile graced her lips as she looked up at the ceiling, and Rebecca couldn't help but wonder how on earth someone could ever feel that way for a person who seemed so… terrifying. "We're going to burn Gotham together – we've already made plans, can you believe it? It's going to be beautiful…"

"And you know what else?" She flipped over onto her stomach again. "We're going to take down ol' Batsy too. Joker is fascinated with B-man for some reason. No one will be able to stop us and we'll be together forever! Doesn't that sound wonderful?" She jumped up onto her knees, bouncing as the springs moved underneath her.

"Yes," Rebecca whispered and tried to scoot away from Harley a little. "Wonderful indeed."

Harley cocked her head to the side, and then reached forward to grasp Rebecca's shoulders. She pulled her towards her a little bit but wasn't able to move her much further from her position due to the handcuffs. "You're pretty Becks, but ya look like shit now that I look at you a bit more. And you smell bad," Harley sniffed and frowned. She moved her hands from Rebecca's shoulders. Rebecca tensed immediately as Harley moved them upwards to grasp her long brown hair. "Such nice hair." Suddenly, her eyes brightened and she snapped them over to look at Rebecca excitedly. "Can I play with it?"

Rebecca blinked. That was not what she had been expecting at all. Before she could give an answer, however, Harley had her hand on Rebecca's shoulder and pushed her so that her back was facing her with a surprising strength. Fingers were combing through her hair instantly and what Rebecca assumed to be a braid was beginning at the top of her head. "Yuck. Your hair really is nasty."

"Harley, what are you doing in here?" Rebecca shifted her eyes to the door to see Alex and Eddie glaring at the two women. Harley's hands abandoned her hair, and she felt her shift behind her.

"_Hiya _Alex and Eddie," Harley giggled, not sounding frightened at all. Rebecca was shaking she was so scared looking at the two men – Eddie's hardening and territorial glint in his eyes, Alex's imposingly huge figure in the doorway – and she slowly turned around so that her hand was back in a more comfortable position. Now that she was facing Harley's side, she could see that the woman was smiling wickedly. "I was just having some girl-time fun-time with Becks here."

"You're not supposed to be in here," Alex growled and stormed forward. He grasped onto Harley's arm and hauled her closer to him, putting his face right up against hers. Rebecca cowered into her corner, eyes wide with fright. "If you hurt her at all, I'll have your head on a stick. You can't come around her-"

"Mister J said it was all right!" Harley fired back hotly. Alex froze and his knuckles were turning purple from the hard squeeze he was giving her arm. Harley didn't seem to notice the hold he had on her, and instead she continued to smile up at him, eyes blinking innocently. "In fact, he _encouraged _it. I just wanted to check up on Becks here – that's all. I didn't hurt her, did I Becks?" She turned her head to look at Rebecca. Swallowing, Rebecca shook her head slowly from side to side while bringing her legs up to her chest. "See!" Harley's head snapped back to look at Alex. "I told ya I didn't hurt her. "

"Why would Joker encourage you to come in here?" Eddie said, moving closer to where the three were around and on the bed. He glared at Harley as if he didn't fully believe her. "I'm not a part of his plan and neither is Rebecca. As long as I don't kill her, he said I could do whatever I liked. To carry out my experiments with as much vigor as I liked without interference from him." _Experiments_? Was she a lab rat now?

Harley tossed her head back, pigtails swinging. "Mister J said that you hadn't given him the update on how she was. He said that next time you forget that he'll come to see her _himself_," her already huge smile widened.

Alex tugged her forwards and up so that she was eye-level. "You can check on her all you like _as long as _you have Joker's permission. Other than that, I don't want to see you here and I _don't_ want you touching her ever again."

"Mister J's not going to like that you're threatening me."

"Go ahead and tell him. See if I care," Alex snarled. He dropped her, Harley bouncing back down on the bed. "Now get out." She glared at him, but moved off the bed. Walking haughtily, she gave Eddie a glance before turning and waving at Rebecca.

After a few seconds of awkward and tense silence, Alex, too, turned and left, leaving Rebecca alone with Eddie. She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, carefully trying to avoid his gaze as he walked over to one of the closets. "Feeling better today?" He asked and she was struck with the feeling that she was in a doctor's office at a routine check-up.

Confused, she asked, "What do you mean? Have I felt bad before?"

"That depends on how you define _feeling bad_. What you may say is feeling bad is something another considers a normality, and vice versa. Technically, saying that you _feel bad _or _feel better _is just as ambiguous as saying that it _feels good outside_." He turned around, revealing an IV packet in his hands filled with a clear liquid. Walking back towards her, Rebecca jerked as far away from him as she could. He grinned at her and shook his head, placing the pack next to her. "Honestly, Rebecca, I'm not the one that you need to be frightened of the most."

"Well then why am I handcuffed to the bed? If I have nothing to fear from you then you have nothing to worry about. I'm not going to hurt you and I'm not going to try to escape."

Eddie opened up the top drawer of the bedside table, taking out a coil of flexible tube with a needle at the end. He attached one end to the IV packet. "But you've tried to escape. That's why you are hooked to the bed so I can make sure that you won't try again."

"I wouldn't have tried though! I don't remember trying…"

"Of course you don't," he said with an eerie smile. She scrunched her eyebrows together. What did he mean by that? What was going on here? Eddie reached up and attached the IV packet to a hook in the ceiling, then ran his hand down the length of the tube until he came to the needle. "Now, the game goes just like before." His eyes brightened and he sat next to her on the bed, Rebecca jerking her legs away from him as much as possible as she watched him warily. "I ask you a question to which you give me the answer. Depending on whether or not you get it right determines the amount of hours you get to retain your memory."

"What-what do you mean?"

"Get the question right and you get to remember things. Get the question wrong and I'll give you this medicine which will fog your mind so that you can't think of anything. It's as simple as that. The questions will test your brain power and will strengthen your resistance to the drug as time goes on. These are riddles that I've asked before, and I want to see how well you can remember that."

"So…you're going to ask me riddles that you've asked me before so I can dig through my memories to try to recall the answers. If I get them wrong, you're going to fog up my mind more?"

"You brain will react negatively to the medicine and, as I said, you'll build a resistance to it." He held the needle up to her eyes so that she could see it. "I don't want to hurt you, Rebecca. I'm here to help you."

"Then let me go!" She pleaded with him, trying to figure out what in the hell was wrong with him. Experimenting on her with his drug? What was this for? Pure, sick fascination with the human mind? Something far more sinister? "I can't _do _anything! Just please take me away from this place."

He shook his head. "That's not possible. Joker and Alex are far too keen on keeping you here for their purposes, and quite frankly, I find your mind quite a challenge. You're used to blocking out painful things, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't know," she spat, "I can't _remember_ anything."

"Of course you don't." He smiled at her smugly and dropped his hand back down to his lap. "It's a temporary side effect of the medicine. The stronger your mind becomes, the less that will happen.

"I don't want the medicine. I want to keep my mind the way that it is now." Rebecca shook her head furiously. She didn't want to play his sick game. She didn't want to be under the drugs – she wanted to stay as coherent as possible.

Eddie's eyes flashed dangerously at her, disapproval deeply etched in his features as he frowned. "I'm very disappointed, Rebecca. You're going to play the game whether you like it or not. Now, let's begin, shall we?" She shook her head again and he snapped his hand forward to grasp her jaw tightly. "You _will_ do as I ask. I'm trying to be nice here but you are making that intensely difficult. If you don't play then you don't eat or drink. Besides, I'm more than positive that Joker will be glad if I asked him to make you more cooperative."

Rebecca could feel tears well in her eyes over her frustration. Why did he want to keep her here? She wasn't the smartest person in the world – or was she? She could remember nothing about her past and Rebecca didn't understand why he wanted to toy with her so. It was…illogical. What could she have to offer him? Nothing. She had nothing and never would have anything.

She didn't want to play his morbid idea of a game, but she didn't see any way out of it. She couldn't beg her way out or try to appeal to his humane side. Eddie seemed thoroughly intent on getting her to answer his questions and go through the motions of what he asked. And it seemed that he would do whatever it took to get her to play. He seemed to not like Joker from the silent animosity he had shown towards Harley earlier, and for him to threaten her with the man he disliked seemed to be a last resort for him. He may not want to, but he most certainly would. As terrified as she was of the game and of Eddie, she was even more so of what the Joker would do to her in order to make her agree to go through with the game. Whether or not she disagreed and refused right now to play with him, in the end she would be forced to. She could either do that now or wait for the pain and terror Joker would no doubt inflict if Eddie did call him in.

So, with a shuddering sigh, she nodded once weakly to show that she would play.

"Glad to see that you finally came to your senses," Eddie said approvingly and dropped his hand from her jaw. "Now, I'm just going to ask you a few riddles. Are you ready? We'll start out rather easy and then get a little harder. These are relatively simple – you should have no problem answering them." Rebecca nodded again, staring down at the sheets on the bed. "All right. What can you catch but not throw?"

Oh. That was easy. She remembered hearing that one before. "A cold."

"Correct. I can run but not walk. Wherever I go, thought follows close behind. What am I?"

"A nose," she said with a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Maybe she could do this without losing and being injected with the medicine. The answers came easily to her as if she had answered them a dozen times. Maybe she had…

"Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die. What am I?"

"Fire."

"The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?"

"A coffin."

* * *

As soon as Jane entered the restaurant, Rachel pranced on her immediately, reaching forward to grab her arms and wrap her in a huge hug. Faint perfume and vanilla-scented shampoo was all Jane could register as her face was buried in Rachel's mass of brown hair. "Uh…nice to see you too, Rachel." Jane said a little awkwardly as she put her arms around Rachel's extremely thin body. Seriously, did the girl eat? She was probably so thin from all the heels she walked in all the time. Jane envied a woman who could prance around so confidently in the six-inch death traps.

"You're _never_ going to believe what happened today –"

"Josh pulled a gun on Dent in the middle of court. Yes, I'm pretty sure all of Gotham has heard about that by now. It's all over the news." Jane chuckled as she slid backwards, breaking out of Rachel's grip. The pretty brunette grabbed onto Jane's arm and began pulling her towards a small booth that already had two drinks sitting on it.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you," she explained, noticing Jane's hesitation to sit down. "Anyway, yes, can you believe that? When Josh yanked out that gun I was _terrified_ and Harvey just took it from him, dismantled it, joked, and put it in front of Maroni. It was incredible. "

Jane smiled at her enthusiasm. "I bet. I wished that I could have been there to see the look on Maroni's face. I bet that it was priceless."

"Oh it was. The guy thought that he could just rid of Dent so easily – hah! Harvey sure proved him wrong. Enough about that though since you already heard about it. How are things with you lately?"

"Oh they're good." Jane offered weakly, not sure if she was ready for the reprimand from Rachel about her going back into the Narrows so soon. Rachel's hand that was lifting the glass to her lips stopped instantly, and she narrowed her eyes at Jane from over the top.

"What are you not telling me?" Rachel asked. "It's not about Bruce, is it? Are you two having problems? Is he being that broody asshole again? Oh my God," she set the glass down and leaned forward. "_you're pregnant, aren't you_?"

"What!?" Jane practically hollered and a few people around them turned to give the two looks. "No – _hell no_. I'm _not_ pregnant." She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the image of a crawling demon child. Babies and her did not mix at all. Just the thought terrified her.

"Then what is it? You're not telling me something, I know it."

Jane sighed and played with her straw, swirling it around in her glass of tea. "I may have, uh, gone back into the Narrows…?"

"_What!_? Jane are you crazy? You just got out of that life and now you're going back? After everything that's happened you're going to risk your life again like that?"

"I'm not risking anything, Rachel," Jane rolled her eyes and laughed weakly. Damn, Rachel seemed pissed. "Lucius made me a whole outfit and everything – not like, you know, _his_ or anything. But I'm perfectly fine and didn't even get into much trouble or anything." Rachel cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, so I _may_ have taken down a few of Maroni's old men but that's it!"

"So you're the one that took down all of Tyrone's gang! Gordon was telling me about that just this morning. He said that he thought it was Batman but that Tyrone and the men were claiming that it was some super-freak chick person. I thought that they were just lying or something."

Super-freak chick? Jane couldn't help but giggle thinking of Tyrone saying that while locked up in a cell. "Yeah, well, that was me. And that was all the trouble I got in. Honestly, I didn't even get hurt. I have a few bruises, but they're not even that bad."

"What about the one on your jaw? Was that from last night?" Jane reached up to touch where Rachel had nodded too, surprised about how she had forgotten about that one. Shaking her head, she put her hand back down on the table.

"No, that's from Bruce." Rachel's eyes widened. "Oh no! No, it's not what you're thinking. Honestly, do you think he'd be alive right now if he abused me? He and I were sparring yesterday morning. I made him teach me a few moves and was trying them out. Nothing too bad." Jane shrugged.

"Oh thank goodness," Rachel sighed and brushed her hair back. "I was about to say… Bruce would have yet another very angry woman after him if that was the case." An awkward chuckle came and she was silent for a moment. "How is he?"

"He's good. Alfred and I are making sure that he doesn't push himself too much and that he gets some sleep. Bruce can take care of himself, but he does tend to get a little headstrong at times," Jane said. Naturally Rachel would worry about her childhood friend. Even though she didn't approve of what Bruce did, she still cared for him immensely. Jane thought it was good that Bruce had so many people around that cared for him that much. Not only did he have Jane and Alfred, but he also had people like Lucius and Rachel.

"That's nice to hear. Still as stubborn as ever I hear. Alfred calls me every now and then to give me updates and the like. I'm glad that he has you though." Rachel looked up and smiled at her. "Everyone needs someone that they can lean on, someone they can depend on like he does with you."

"He's not the only one that's gotten that from our relationship. I've come to depend on him as much as he has on me. He spoils me rotten though."

"Yeah, Alfred told me how you practically cried when he got you the Garth Brooks CD." She gave her a strange look. "You're dating with one of the richest men in the world, and you're moved by a CD. Something that you can get at Wal-Mart for like, five dollars. You are probably the weirdest girl I've ever met, but," she shrugged, "at least he's not dating a gold-digger."

Jane laughed. "I'm actually a gold-digger in disguise. Didn't you know? I'm just here to take all of Bruce's money as if I'd know what to do with it once I had it."

"Oh the life of the rich." Rachel sighed, shaking her head. "It's different, isn't it? I remember growing up and Bruce was never one to rub his money in anyone's face. I still don't understand how I could think that he had changed so much when he came back to Gotham after all those years." She cupped her chin in her palm, looking away as if she was in deep thought, mulling over possible explanations for why she had wrote Bruce off as a simple playboy even though he had never shown signs of being one. Jane was kind of glad that she had shunned him. It was selfish for her to think so, but if Rachel hadn't, then she and Bruce wouldn't be the couple that they were. Jane would probably still be involved with the mob or possibly even dead by now. Bruce would probably be half-dead with exhaustion and the brooding mess that he had been until she practically beat it out of him.

"It sure is strange." Jane had to agree as she sat forward, placing her palms on the table. "But enough about me and Bruce. How are you and Harvey? You know, besides the killing attempts in court and what not." She chuckled despite the dark reality of the situation.

Rachel's smile became that of a smitten young woman, and a hint of blush appeared on her cheeks. "Oh, you know…we're fine." She looked up to Jane who raised her eyebrows, motioning with her hand for Rachel to continue. "We seem to be getting pretty serious, or at least I think we are. Whether he feels the same is beyond me. We moved in together a few weeks ago and it's going pretty well so far."

"That's good." Jane smiled and nodded, then bit her lip. She really wanted to ask Rachel if Maroni had offered up anything about Rebecca. Would it be rude to just up and ask? Oh, fuck it. She wanted to know and she was tired of beating around the bush, prolonging the inevitable conversation. "Listen, Rachel, in your interrogations of Maroni – and I know that they're confidential and whatever – but…did he mention anything about a Rebecca James?"

"I can't really say anything about those, Jane, you know that." Rachel said sadly and shook her head. "It's unethical for me to do so, and if someone were to find out –"

"How would they find out? I'm not going to tell anyone – you're not going to tell anyone. There's no one left to say or do anything that would put that circumstance in motion. There's no chance whatsoever that would happen." She reached across the table and put her hand on Rachel's. "Please. This girl…I need to find out where she is."

Rachel ran her hands through her hair, huffing before she turned to look over her shoulder, surveying the room quickly before motioning for Jane to come closer. "He didn't mention anything about Rebecca James, but Josh? He did say something about a guy named Eddie and a random girl. When we asked Maroni – we thought we could get him on an extra kidnapping charge – he knew nothing about the girl, and said that he hadn't seen Eddie since a few days before all that went down at the docks. I don't think that Maroni has your girl, Jane. Whether it's even the same girl or not is a mystery to me, but Maroni seemed honest when he said that he had no idea what we were talking about."

"What about a guy named Alex? Did he say anything about him?"

"He did mention that a guy named Alex came up to him to offer assistance in getting you. Maroni took the guy's offer because he knew him from when he worked with Falcone. Apparently, the guy disappeared when Eddie did. That's all he had to say. The guy didn't even take payment for his services – even though he failed." Rachel leaned back, signaling that was all the information that she had for Jane at the moment. Or, at least that was all the information that she was willing to dole out.

Jane frowned. Maroni hadn't seen or heard from Eddie, Alex, or Rebecca since that night a few months ago? That was strange… Maybe Maroni wasn't involved with Rebecca's kidnapping. But if he wasn't, then who was? Who were Alex and Eddie working for now? Surely they hadn't skipped town – not when Alex had promised that he would be back for her. It wouldn't make sense for him to just leave Gotham again like that. It wasn't in his character, and she figured that she knew him well enough to be able to judge him accurately on that account.

Was there some outside person toying with her? Someone that might want her? No, no she hadn't pissed off that many people, had she? Crane was in jail, so was Maroni, and Falcone was in an insane asylum still recovering from the drugs. Tyrone was gone, Alex and Eddie working for someone….so who did that leave? Just trying to think about it on the spot gave her a splintering headache, and she sighed, realizing that she was going to have to take a long trip down memory lane tonight in order to figure out what the hell was going on.

"Thanks, Rachel," Jane smiled. "That helps a lot. Really, it does." She glanced outside and saw that it was getting dark. She'd have to go back to the penthouse, get dressed, and wish Bruce off before going to the docks herself to meet Will, Samantha, and Jim. "I got to go, but I hope that we can meet up again at some point. I enjoy having an actual conversation with a girl sometimes." Jane moved to stand and Rachel followed.

"Stay safe Jane. You're just like Bruce in that you have a knack for getting into deep trouble." Rachel pulled her into another back-breaking hug. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call me or whatever. I'd be happy to help with anything."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jane said with a laugh and pulled back.

* * *

Jane stuck to the shadows this time instead of sitting in the open light like she had with Josh just a few months prior. She leaned casually against a metal crate, a knife in her hands that she twirled around absentmindedly. Jane was dressed in her outfit that Bruce had given her, weapons stocked and everything. Her turtleneck was pulled up over her mouth just in case anyone but the three decided to show up. One thin ankle crossed over the other, she was the picture of ease as she watched for any sign of movement in front of her. The three of them should be here any moment…

They _better_ not be fucking late.

The wind was relatively calm despite her location right next to the water. Jane had learned that hairspray and bobby pins were the best way to go for her hair to stay out of her face. She didn't want to be fussing with the annoying strands when she was speaking with the three of them. Not only would it be bothersome, but distracting as well.

Knife pivoting around in her hands, she bit the inside of her cheek. She scuffed the bottom of her boots against the concrete ground, feeling impatience creep its' way up to her. Jane wasn't patient when it came to matters like this. Especially when she was waiting for an answer that could mean that her search for Rebecca would continue on and on forever or if it would be shorter. Plus, she could finally get the change to rip the mob apart completely, helping Bruce, Gordon, and Dent's war against the Crime Lords of Gotham. There was also the gratification to be gained from watching as the thing that caused her so much pain and hurt completely demolish under her watching eyes and steady hand.

Merely thinking about the mob finally become eradicated gave her a huge thrill. Everything that she had worked for over the years would conclude, closing one part of her life so that she could move on to another. What that other part might be was beyond her – she wasn't too worried about it now. She had bigger things to worry about and look forward to than her future.

She saw shadows moving from the parking lot of the docks, coming around the warehouse and walking towards where she was. Not that they were coming directly towards her. Jane was obscured in the shadows, and for good reason it seemed. Instead of the three shadows that she had been expecting, there was a fourth. As they came into the light, she saw that it was a young woman.

This one was different than Samantha. Where Samantha was thin and delicate looking, this other resembled Jane in that she was muscular, yet she had voluptuous curves to her. She was akin to what an artist would depict a female superhero on the cover of a comic book. Thick, long black hair that was flowing in the wind, straight across bangs; wide, almond-shaped eyes; tall body thick with cords of muscle yet also having a very womanly shape. As she came into the light, Jane saw that the girl's features were masked in a huge wall. Hmm… to Jane, she resembled herself actually.

Which meant that she was probably not going to get along well with her.

Samantha stood beside her, her lanky and waifish body more accurately described as belonging in a secretary's office rather than on the docks at this time of night to discuss business. She was certainly pretty in an innocent way, a fairy in Gotham. Straight brown hair to match dark eyes and naturally tanned skin, a small mouth and shapely cheekbones to go along with her slender limbs and gentle skin. Every time Jane looked at her, she couldn't help but to be plagued with thoughts of Rebecca.

Next to Samantha was her brother Jim. Jane scowled as she studied him – he was definitely a wanna-be hardass. He and Samantha resembled slightly. Jane could see it in the eyes and hair. They shared the same brown eyes and eye shape and straight brown hair though Jim's was cut short. He had a hard jawline that was always tensed, chiseled features that might have been handsome if he wasn't scowling all the time. Broad-shouldered and muscularly built, he exuded athletic and while he wasn't as bulked as other men, he was still rather imposing. Especially with the hard glint in his eyes.

Will, however, was the polar opposite. He was muscular too – it kind of came along with the lifestyle – but he had a certain friendly air and look about him that made Jane instantly take a liking to him. Brown skin, brown eyes, and a shaved head. Jane was insanely jealous about the smooth texture and healthiness of his skin which was quite ridiculous honestly. Will had full lips, a soft jawline, warm brown eyes, and a leanly muscled body to go along with it. He looked to be someone that you would join at a bar and talk about a football game over a beer or something. _That_ kind of guy.

The four stopped, and Jane watched as Jim said something angrily, Samantha turning to look around where they were. Probably looking for her. Figuring that it was time to go out there and find out why they brought along someone else, she sheathed the knife into her belt. As she began to walk away from the crates, she pulled down her turtleneck. The four of them turned to look at her, chattering stopping once she had stepped into the light. Jane tucked her hands into her pockets while she strolled towards them.

"I'm afraid that I'm not acquainted with your guest," Jane said stonily, exuding her displeasure at someone else joining them.

"This is Tanya," Will explained first before Jim could open his mouth. "She can be trusted. Once you told us about your proposition, we felt that it wouldn't be right unless we included her. She's just as wary about this whole thing as we are."

"Well I hope that it won't happen again. I can't come to trust you if you bring random people to me without warning. My life is in the balance here just as much as yours is." She gave a curt nod to Tanya and then crossed her arms over her chest. "So, have you all come up with an answer yet?"

Jim and Will shared a glance before Will turned to Tanya. She nodded once, her eyes remaining on Jane's. Samantha nodded too once Will looked to her for confirmation. "We're tired of enslaving our lives and safety to the mob. Especially with Batman and Dent around, things are getting pretty intense. We accept your offer," Will spoke diplomatically. "But we hope that by joining you, we won't be doing anything to garner the negative attention of the cops."

Jane smiled at him. "Our focus will be elsewhere. Let the cops handle themselves. I have far more powerful allies, and I can assure you that I'll do everything I can to make sure that you are all kept out of their eyes as long as you do what I ask. Of course, you can't do anything stupid either. I'm not going to risk myself to get you out of something that you shouldn't have been doing in the first place."

"How do we know that you're not going to turn on us the moment you get what you want?" Tanya asked, her voice heavy with some kind of accent.

"You don't. Just like I don't know if you're going to do the same. We just have to place out trust blindly, it seems. But I'm willing to do this if it means bringing down the entire mob."

Tanya narrowed her eyes a bit, seemingly not really like her explanation, but Jane didn't really care. She didn't have to explain herself any more than she was expecting them to. "All right," Jim said, speaking for the first time since they got there. "We'll join you. What do you need us to do?"

"Stay right where you are."

"What? You want us to just remain in the mob?"

"Exactly. You have all the intel you can get from where you are. Stay there, try not to piss anyone off, call me if someone becomes to forward, and I'll expect updates. Oh, and don't think that you can hide anything from me. If I do find out that you are, you'll seriously regret it." Jane gave them one last smile before turning and walking away.

This was going to be fun.


	7. Chapter 7

Jane woke in a bed the next morning. Growling as sunlight hit her face, she turned inwards, rolling over and bumping into a really hard something in the bed. Something that was hard, warm, and smelling like citrusy mint. Peeking an eye open, she saw Bruce lying next to her, eyes closed. Whether or not he was actually asleep wasn't something that she gauged as soon as she opened her eyes completely to study him, but his breathing was normal and the rise and fall of his chest was pretty rhythmic. He wasn't _that_ good of a trickster.

Moving her head so that it was more comfortably resting on the pillow, she tucked her arm underneath it for more firmness. Now she was going to be the one to watch Bruce like a creeper – give him a taste of his own medicine. To be honest though, she didn't mind watching him. When he was asleep it seemed as if all of his troubles left him. Gone was the sometimes too worried Bruce, the brooding features replaced with the veil of nice dreams.

The covers were pulled up and tucked underneath their arms to cover their bare skin. When Jane had crawled into bed earlier this morning – alone, Bruce hadn't made it back just yet – she wasn't about to abandon sleep for sleep clothes. Fuck that. So, she had crawled into bed clad in nothing but her underwear and a sports bra. Bruce seemed to have shared her idea. His chest was bare and she couldn't see what he was wearing his lower regions. Curious, she bent her knee upwards and brushed it against his upper thigh. Briefs. Probably those black _Calvin Klein_ she loved so much.

Her hair was loose and a complete mess around her head, but his was perfectly pushed out of his face. Damn men and their ability to do absolutely nothing yet still look the same. Jane scowled and reached up a hand to brush through her knots with her fingers in an attempt to look less cavewoman. She hadn't realized just how tired she was or just how comfortable the bed was until now. After sleeping on a desk, the bed felt like nirvana. Like a damn cloud or something. Except she had never slept on a cloud or visited nirvana… well, if she had done either of those things, she was sure that this would be an equivalent.

Jane let her hand slap back down on the mattress and her eyes to close. No use in staying up if Bruce wasn't. She didn't want to disturb him by getting out of the bed, and well, quite frankly, she liked being underneath the covers with him. The shared body heat felt nice as well as their knees which were just barely touching. Little things like that? They drove her wild and she'd be lying if she said she didn't have a strong, wild urge to just wake him up already.

"I'm awake now," he said and Jane's eyes snapped open at the surprise of hearing him speak. He must have just woken up. His eyes were still closed, but once he felt hers on him, he opened his too. Bruce blinked a little at first to adjust to the super-bright sunlight. Stupid fucking windows. Sure, they were heavily tinted and everything, but at noon it was kind of hard to keep the light out. "You can blame it on your horrendous breath."

She snorted, about to get on to him but he took her hands in his and put them between them. Narrowing her eyes, she felt him squeeze the touch. "What do you want, Mister? I'm still insulted by your comment and it's going to take a lot more than a simple hand-holding session to make it up to me."

Bruce was silent for a moment. He was just…looking at her. Gazing at her while his thumb stroked against the back of her hand like he always did. She quirked an eyebrow. What was he thinking? "I'm sorry. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever had the pleasure of waking up next to." Jane felt the conversation and mood shift from something light and happy to something… deeper. Much deeper.

"Yeah right," she rolled her eyes at him. "You don't have to try to woo me. You've already done that," she smiled at him, sitting up slightly so that she could brush her lips against his. Bruce let go of one of her hands, winding it up to the back of her neck so he could pull her closer into him. Jane allowed him to move her closer to him, shifting her hips forward to allow their legs to entangle underneath all of the fabric. Her hair fell around the two of them as they exchange a tender kiss that sent warmth through her. Unlike the normal lightening sensations that she felt, this one was a leisurely burning feeling. Like coals and fire in a fireplace. It glowed, slowly and slowly growing stronger as their lips continued to meet.

It was strange. Strange to take part in it. Strange to exchange it. Strange to share it. It made her skin feel like it was tingling, her fingertips desperate to lace on his skin, to brush against it softly like one would a butterfly. Something to tender and wonderful that it had an otherworldly beauty to it. Jane moved her hand from where it was lying between their stomachs and wrapped it around his upper arm. Right now, she was lying on top of him, and normally she would love that. But right now? She needed to feel his steady weight against her.

So, she pulled, their arms curling around her body together as Bruce rolled with her. He laid her gently on her back, pillow fluffing around her head as he broke apart for a mere second for air and then returning to kissing her again. She was right – the feel of his body and warmth against her felt so much nicer than when they had just the chest contact. Him weighing her down comfortably, a steady safeguard that she clutched to as she put her hands against his arms, running them upwards to that she could wind them around his neck.

Jane moaned into his mouth, her right leg dragging upwards so that she could drape it across his lower calf. "If this is what I get for waking you up," she whispered against him when they broke apart again. "Then I'll have to wake you up more." Jane picked her head up off the pillow and engaged another kiss. Bruce responded by letting his hands fall, scraping lightly against her flesh and sending goose bumps over her body until they reached her thighs. He wrapped them carefully and pulled them up. She gripped his hips with her knees. When he tucked his hands underneath her neck, Jane was caught off guard a little as he rocked backwards. He cradled her to his chest and picked her up, pulling her towards him as he moved to sit on his heels.

Jane's legs folded down and she slid her hips forward so that she was sitting comfortably in his lap. Her arms were still wrapped around his neck. One of his hands dropped to wrap around her waist, the other finding purchase in her hair as he held her to him. When she was pushed directly over his hardness, she whimpered at the jolt that ran through her body, the slow burning quickly becoming a raging inferno. She gasped into his mouth and instinctively pushed her hips down against his more, increasing that delicious pressure there as her arms tightened around his neck.

The arm that was around her waist was quickly removed, reaching low to push aside her underwear as well as his briefs. Jane's and Bruce's eyes were closed, and there was a bit of awkward fumbling until he managed to free himself. When the two of them finally joined, Jane whimpered, her forehead dropping to rest against his as she gasped for breath. Bruce's hand returned to its place on her hip, and he helped her rock in his lap. She moaned, opening her eyes to see their chests completely touching. One becoming the other in more ways than just one.

When Bruce began to pick up the pace, Jane threw her head back a little. A loud gasp came from her lips as he brushed his own against her jaw, and she tightened her grip before breaking her hands apart to lace in his hair. They hadn't tried this position since their first time, and Jane had to admit that she had been missing it sorely. There was just something about the two of them on each other's level, looking into each other's eyes. Neither of them was on top, neither on bottom. They were together, in sync as one complete person.

She opened her eyes and met Bruce's hooded gaze. Seeing him watch her made her mewl again, and she fell forward against him again. She rested her forehead against his as sheer pleasure racked against her, something so sweet and laughably innocent about the moment. It wasn't lost on her at all – just like the time that he had lavished complete attention to her body, this was different from the other times they had become intimate. Something in his eyes as they watched her that proved this was more than just a lustful encounter.

Jane's fingers gripped his hair as she gasped for breath. Her hips rocked against him more, Bruce speeding her along with his hands gripping her hips tightly. They weren't completely naked, but Jane didn't see the point in stripping for this moment. It was too perfect to interrupt, and thought she wanted to feel him completely against him, the euphoria that was working its way up her body shut out any and all thoughts of pausing this moment.

Her shoulders caved forward, hand sliding down from his hair to palm his chest. She curled her fingers, nails scraping against his slightly as she did so. She was so close to her release. All she needed was… Bruce kissed her passionately, one hand shooting up the skin of her back to bury itself in her hair to pull her as close to him as possible. Her hands were smooshed against their chests, but she didn't care. The kiss sent more fuel to the fire, more current to the electricity. More bliss and perfection to the moment.

When his other hand brushed against the tender spot of her lower back with more pressure, she broke away with a whimper. Her eyes met his and she saw that there was something in them – something far more than lust as he watched her. Seeing that intense amount of feeling in them broke her apart, and with a cry her body seized against his. She was pushed over the cliff and into ecstasy like so many times before. She collapsed forward, hands scratching to hold on to Bruce's shoulders to keep her grounded against him. Her shoulders slouched inwards, forehead touching his before he captured her lips with a searing kiss as he reached his release inside of her.

"Bruce," she whispered into his mouth, eyes relaxing as the fireworks stopped and were replaced with the haze of pleasure. He stroked her hair softly and she let her head fall to rest on his shoulder as she tried to regain her breath and sanity. Her hands that had been scratching at him found purchase as they wound around his neck again, holding her to him to keep that closeness still.

"Jane," Bruce said as he buried his face in her hair. His voice was a scant breath as well, whispering it out loud as if it was something too precious to be shared with the world. It was just for her and him to hear, the two of them alone to share in the moment they found themselves in. Their own little bubble that surrounded them to protect one another from the outside. Bruce shared so much of himself to the outside world and gained nothing in return – Jane had all but sold her soul to the devil before he came along. These moments of pure intimacy and connection was worth so much more because instead of giving away, they also took. Bruce took just as much pleasure from Jane as she took from him, but the thing was, they were both so willing to give it away that they didn't mind it at all. Jane wanted Bruce to take all that she had – all that she could ever give to him was his as far as she knew.

Everything that she had was his. Everything… including her heart.

As Jane held him closely to her and he clutched onto her, she realized that she cared so much more for Bruce than she could have ever imagined. Not only was he her safety net, her battering ram, her savior, and her friend, but he was also her close confidant, the one person in the world that could truly understand what she felt. What she had been through, her past and secrets completely known to him and yet he still took her as she was. Jane…loved him.

She loved everything about him. She loved all of _him_.

It was kind of scary to admit it to herself. She wasn't just admitting that she just cared for him anymore – she was admitting that meant a lot more to her than even her own life. Jane would do whatever it took to protect Bruce even though she knew he could protect himself. She was drawn that much to him that she would risk everything that she had in order to keep him safe. A terrifying notion for someone like herself who depended on self-reliance and surviving for years. Sacrificing herself for someone else? It was unheard of in her life up until this moment.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, sensing that she was in some form of inner turmoil. His face was still tucked between her jaw and shoulder, nestled up as closely to her neck as possible like a child.

Should she tell him what she was thinking about? Should she say the three-word taboo sentence that could destroy all of what they had? If he didn't feel as deeply about her, what would he say? Would he become angry for her getting too attached to him? Or what if he returned the words to him and therefore making their situation all the more uncomfortable. If he felt the same way then there was no telling what other problems it would conjure up for them. Maybe it was best if she just kept quiet about it. Jane didn't want to destroy the good relationship they had going, and if she said it then it would be like something always hanging over the air between them.

Instead of saying the taboo-laced words, she chose to not exactly like, but at the same time not exactly tell him the truth. "You," she spoke and ran her fingers through his soft hair again. "You are always more than eager to practically jump me." She brushed her lips across his temple and smiled. "Not that I mind."

"I'm glad that it doesn't bother you," he replied. Picking his head up off her shoulder, he looked at her fully with tender eyes. "Because as long as I wake up with you beside me it's going to be a continual thing. Of course, I'd might be able to control myself more if you didn't tempt me so."

"Me? A temptress?" She laughed at the picture forming in her head of herself dressed in nothing but lingerie waiting for him to come to her as she stretched across the bed in kitten heels. Yeah. Like that would fucking happen.

"You seduce me in so many innocent little ways," Bruce told her as he pushed her hair out of her face again. Jane raised an eyebrow at him, wondering how one could be innocent and seductive at the same time. "It's difficult to explain at the moment."

Jane shook her head at him and moved to get up. Bruce let her move out of his lap, and she felt him watching her as she fixed her underwear while she walked to the bathroom. She ended up shedding her clothes anyway, feeling the need for a shower. Jane turned on the hot water and stepped in. A few moments later, Bruce was opening the shower door and stepping into the large encasing with her. "A little forward, are we? What makes you think I want you in here with me?" She asked playfully before bumping her hip lightly against his.

He smiled at her. Reaching around her, he grabbed her shampoo and put some into the palm of his hand. "I just wanted to wash your hair for once. A guy can't do that for his girl?"

"Now who ever said that I was your girl?" She smirked but turned around. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back and let Bruce massage her head with the shampoo. She had always wanted to see what it felt like for someone to completely spoil her like this. It felt fucking fantastic. Jane could have been a queen receiving a bath in an elegant castle. His fingers were gentle enough not to hurt, but rubbed in hard enough to work out some tension that she had been feeling. She sighed, "I don't know which is better, Bruce. Sex or having my hair washed."

"I don't know whether that's a good thing or a bad thing," He said and tilted her head forward to work at the back of her head and neck. "Would you like to accompany me to dinner tonight? Nothing extremely extravagant or anything. Just a nice little dinner for me and you. You'll get to dress up…" Bruce lingered on that, knowing very well how much she liked putting on pretty dresses to go somewhere. Jane hadn't had a chance in a long time because she didn't want to go out unless it was necessary, but the thought of actually putting effort into her appearance excited her.

Perky, she bowed her head forward so that he could get the ends washed. "Of course. I'm guessing we're going to one of those insanely expensive restaurants?"

"If you don't like it, there's a _Burger King_ down the road we can stop by on the way home. I _promise_ I'll make it up to you later," he dropped her hair. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he gently turned her around so that her back was facing the shower. Jane kept her eyes on him as he rinsed her hair out with the water.

A few hours later, Jane stood in front of the huge walk-in closet mirror. Turning this way and that, she tried to figure out if she looked appropriate enough. This time she hadn't asked for Alfred's opinion since he was so well-versed in this sort of thing where she…wasn't. Jane kind of wanted to see if she could pick out something that was up to the standards. Bruce said they were going to a nice, fancy restaurant so it would have to be a dressy dress. However, it was also a casual meal, so it shouldn't be to overbearingly formal either.

Putting her hands on her hips as she fully faced the mirror, she huffed. Who knew dressing up to go out to eat was so damn complicated? Jane had changed her mind several times, and she had finally just given up, going for the first thing she grabbed. The dress was black and cut short of reaching her knees. It was strapless and plain, but had black shimmery tulle over the top to give it a dressier, more expensive feel. The tulle covered the whole dress, reaching up to one of her shoulders where it gathered slightly before going down her back to stretch over all of the black. It was simple, but pretty. When paired with a pair of black stilettoes and dangly black and silver onyx earrings, it became a tad more formal.

Jane had pinned her hair into an easy updo with a few strands hanging around her face. Lips matte nude and eyes smoky, she looked dark like a gothic doll, but when she smiled and softened her features, she easily slipped into a character a bit more friendly and pretty. Maybe this wasn't what she should be wearing, but too damn bad. Jane liked the dress, and the snobby place they were going to was just going to have to deal with it.

Almost storming out of the closet, she bumped right into Bruce, falling back and losing balance on the tiny heels of her shoes. Bruce was quick to grab her before she fell, and she scowled down at her feet as if it was their fault. "Thanks," she muttered and moved to steady herself. "Stupid fucking heels." Jane dropped her arms from Bruce's, but he didn't let go of hers. She looked up with an arched brow, wondering why in hell he was still holding on to her as if she would fall again. "What?"

"You can't wear that." He said, eyes looking up to hers. What? Did he think he could tell her what she could and could not wear? Jane loved Bruce – as she had come to the conclusion earlier that day – but she wasn't into that controlling shit. "Remember what I said earlier about you tempting me in innocent ways? Well, you in this dress is working on that. You look beautiful."

Oh. Okay. That she could deal with. Fighting her blush, she tilted her chin upwards at him. "Oh yeah? Well I'm not changing. I've already changed a hundred times, and this is what I'm wearing. So you're just going to have to try to keep it in your pants for a few hours, okay? But I'm glad that you like it. I was a little worried that it might not be enough…" For the first time, she noticed his black tailored suit and grey hexagonal-patterned tie. Of course he looked sharp, even in something that he wore almost every day. Fuck guys and their ability to just wake up and look great. "You look beautiful, too."

"I don't know if that's a compliment or…" He smiled at her, dropping his arms from her elbows now that she seemed fairly steady.

"It's a compliment." She assured him. "Trust me. So how was that meeting you went to earlier?"

Bruce took her by the arm like they were in a western movie: he was the gentleman-like cowboy, she the infatuated damsel. She chuckled, but didn't say anything as she waited to hear his answer. Shortly after their shower and him telling her they were going out, he had left to go to Wayne Tower for a business meeting with Fox and the board.

He shrugged and led her down the stairs, walking slowly so that she wouldn't stumble down the steps in the fucking ridiculous heels she wore. "We met with a Chinese businessman, but we're not making a deal or anything. I just needed an excuse to look into his books and study his revenue stream. The guy's obviously involved with criminals and ironically our own little mob families here."

"All of them?" Bruce nodded and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Damn. When Falcone was in charge, none of the families got along. Maybe Maroni had found some way to link them all together. Fraternizing with the enemy, no? "That's stupid. They're all supposed to be competitors not buddies." She shook her head in annoyance as they stepped onto the landing. "Things have changed so much in the past year."

"One good thing about that is that now they'll be much easier to apprehend and brought to justice. Especially with your new intel and everything." He smiled down at her. "They probably all meet up at the same places for cocktails and whatever the hell they drink."

"Beer." She corrected him. "What kind of self-respecting hitman is going to drink a fruity drink with an umbrella?" About thirty minutes later, a valet was opening her door, and another was taking Bruce's spot in the driver's seat. Trying to be a fucking lady about it, she stepped out and her hand was taken by Bruce's. When she looked over at him, she could see several people staring at the two. They probably wondered who she was. Just like the people at his birthday party forever ago, no one knew who the woman who was attached to Bruce Wayne's arm was, and she wondered what they would think if they knew.

Before she knew it, Bruce was leading her once more to the door, and she tried to keep up. Whoever had made heels and had made it almost socially demanding to wear them better hope that she never saw them on the streets. These things were almost too ridiculous, and she hoped that she didn't look too awkward in them. Heel down first, one foot in front of the other. Thank goodness she had great balance and leg muscles or she'd be tripping all over herself.

"Next time let's go somewhere where I can wear a tee-shirt and boots," she scowled in his ear as they wove through the tables. Bruce laughed at her, squeezing her hand.

"You're doing great," he said and turned his head to brush his lips against her temple. Jane closed her eyes and shuddered at the little touch, trying not to let her knees shake too bad as he stood back up straight with a cocky smile on his face. Jane narrowed her eyes at him. Oh he was _so_ going to pay for that. "Rachel!" Jane's head snapped back over to rover her glance over the numerous heads in the large restaurant. There! Rachel and Dent were sitting together at a table for two, and when Bruce called her name, Rachel looked up. Jane saw a little hesitation in them and wanted to pull Bruce back.

"They're having a date, Bruce," she hissed as he made his way over to them.

"If Dent is going to be dating Rachel then he needs a friendly stamp of approval. Isn't that what you girls do?" He joked and she dug her nails into his hands causing him to wince.

"He already _has_ a stamp of approval. _Mine_. Don't screw this up for them, please?"

"I've wanted to meet him for some time, Jane. Come now, play nice." The two walked closer to the table, Bruce turning his playboy rich kid swagger on as he came near Harvey. Oh, right. He had a part to play. "Rachel. Fancy that."

Rachel chuckled a little nervously. "Yeah, Bruce. Fancy that." Jane knew that Rachel had been a little anxious about seeing Bruce after she made so many judgments about them, and when she shot Jane a glance, Jane tried to exude that Bruce held no hard feelings for her.

"Hi Rachel," Jane said with an awkward little wave. Bruce was completely cutting Harvey the cold shoulder, kind of like an older brother who meets his sister's boyfriend for the first time. She gave Dent a warm smile. "Harvey, it's nice to see you again."

"Bruce, this is Harvey Dent," Rachel smiled at Dent. Harvey reached his hand forward for a handshake.

"The famous Bruce Wayne," Harvey commented with his charming air, and Bruce took his hand. Jane noticed that she shook it probably a little harder than necessary. "Rachel has told me all about you."

"Well I certainly hope not," He replied. Jane had to put her hand over her mouth to stop the laugh that threatened to burst through. "So let's put a couple of tables together." Not to subtly, Jane balled up her fist and punched him in the side, trying to play it off by curling her arm around his and stepping closer.

"I'm not sure that they'll let us…"

"Oh they should." Bruce assured him, "I own the place." He lifted his hand and motioned to a waiter. Jane gave Rachel an apologetic look.

"Bruce!" A chipper, accented voice said in surprise. "Bruce Wayne! Oh my, this is such a nice coincidence." Jane's senses were overwhelmed by the strong smell of rich perfume before she looked over at him with a curious glance to see a gorgeous blonde wrap her arms around his neck. Bruce looked a little surprised but returned it nonetheless. "I haven't seen you in ages. How have you been?"

"Natasha," Bruce said with a dawning recognition of the leggy woman clutching him. Jane quirked an eyebrow, turning fully to look at the two. Who the hell was this chick? "It's nice to see you again. May I introduce my beautiful girlfriend Jane?" The introduction startled her a bit, and she almost missed the envious glare blonde bimbo gave her. Almost. "Jane, this is an old friend of mine. Natasha."

"Natasha? Are you the-"

"Prima ballerina for the Moscow ballet," Bruce finished for her. "Natasha, this is another very old friend of mine Rachel."

"Not _that_ old. The ballet? Wow, it's nice to meet you. Harvey's taking me next week."

"Oh, so, you're into ballet." Bruce commented with an amused smile. Jane dug her nails into Bruce's arm again, causing him to wince. He looked down at her, and she told him to _be nice_ with her glare.

"Natasha, it's very nice to meet you," Jane said with a smile. Bruce's add-on to her name appeased her a bit. Not that she was extremely territorial of Bruce, but she saw the way Natasha looked at him. And how in the hell could she compete with _that_? Fucking _prima ballerina _– whatever the hell that meant.

Instead of pushing two together, the group was instead moved to a different, larger one. Natasha and another ballerina – Mila – joined them. Jane didn't really care now, her bout of jealousy and anger abated as Bruce put his hand in hers. When they sat, Jane leaned over to whisper into Rachel's ear, "I am _so_ sorry about this."

"Bruce gets what he wants," Rachel shrugged. "I'm just glad that he still wants to talk to me."

"How could you want to raise children in a city like this?" Natasha complained and waved her hand in the air as if to accompany the _this_. Which didn't make a whole lot of sense since they were currently in a debonair, fucking expensive restaurant that nearly gave Jane a heart attack once she saw the menu.

"Well, I was raised here and I turned out okay," Bruce remarked.

"Is Wayne Manor in the city limits?" Harvey asked, and Bruce almost glared at him before covering it up with a lazy charm that he was in for show.

"The Palisades? Sure. You know, as our new DA you might want to figure out where your jurisdiction is."

"What do you mean, exactly?" Jane asked to Natasha, cutting off both Harvey and Bruce before they could say anything else. Bruce was acting too much like a brother, and Harvey wasn't back down at all much to Bruce's obvious annoyance. Mila chuckled at the two before taking a huge swig of her fourth wine glass.

"I'm talking about a city that idolizes a masked vigilante." Natasha clarified and gave a pointed glance to Dent. Jane rolled her eyes. So, this chick was one of _those_.

"Gotham City is proud of an ordinary citizen standing up for what's right." Harvey responded almost a bit defensively. Bruce's interest seemed piqued. Jane knew that Dent was a Batman supporter, but Bruce didn't. Maybe Bruce might have acted differently if he knew that Harvey was on their side. Oh well. He deserved to feel like the asshole he had been acting all night.

"Gotham needs heroes like you. Not citizens who think they are above the law." Mila slurred slightly, joining into the conversation for a second.

"Exactly," Bruce said. "Who appointed the Batman?"

"We did. All of us who stood by and let scum take control of our city." Harvey looked to Jane for support.

"Besides, with the corrupt nature of most of Gotham's bureaucrats and cops, we'd be lucky to apprehend a simple thief, much less people like Falcone." Jane said to Natasha who rolled her eyes.

"But this is a democracy."

"Which means that the power is in the hands of the people. As long as Batman isn't harming anyone who is innocent then he's fine. The very people our code of laws was inspired from wrote that when your government becomes corrupt and no longer caters to the service of its people then it is the responsibility of the citizen to take control. We have the right to denounce our government if need be – which is what Batman is doing," Jane was becoming a bit angry with the blonde Russian. What the hell did she know?

"When enemies were at the gates, the Romans would suspend the Senate and appoint one man to protect the city. It wasn't considered an honor; it was considered a public service. " Harvey said and gave Jane a grateful look.

Rachel leaned forward. "Harvey, the last man they appointed to protect the Republic was named Caesar and he never gave up his power."

"Okay fine. You either die a hero or see yourself live long enough to become the villain. Look, whoever the Batman is, he doesn't want to do this for the rest of his life. How could he? Batman is looking for someone to take up his mantle."

"Someone like you?" Natasha asked.

"Maybe," Dent shrugged. "If I'm up to it."

"What if Harvey Dent is the caped crusader?" Natasha joked and held up her napkin to cover Dent's eyes.

Harvey chuckled a little and looked over to Rachel. "If I were sneaking out every night someone would notice by now." Dent held Rachel's hand, and she gave him a small, sweet smile.

Jane felt Bruce cover her hand with his underneath the table, squeezing it reassuringly. "Well, I'm sold, Dent. I'm going to throw you a fundraiser." So, Bruce was more than pleased with Dent. The guy had made a good impression on him even though Bruce had come in with a negative attitude towards the poor guy.

"That's nice of you Bruce, but I'm not up for reelection for three years."

"No, you don't understand. One fundraiser with my pals and you'll never need another cent.

Harvey blinked at him, the shock of Bruce offering help clearly reading on his face. Jane didn't really blame him – Bruce had been acting like an asshole towards him the whole night, so why would he offer help? But she knew Dent wouldn't turn it down. Rachel looked more surprised than he did though. Her eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing Bruce's face to see if he was being serious or playing a cruel joke.

"That's very kind of you," Rachel said a bit tersely. Her lips pressed together in a line and she looked to Jane. Shrugging, Jane tried to register that she didn't know what Bruce was thinking.

"It's the least I can do for the man who put Maroni behind bars." Bruce flashed a smile and leaned back in his chair. He let go of her hand to draw it behind Jane's chair, pulling her slightly closer towards him. Natasha narrowed her eyes a bit at their proximity and Jane sensed a case of jealousy. The bombshell probably wasn't used to someone like Jane grabbing a guy like Bruce when she was around.

"Well, we'll be going," Natasha said and flashed a charming smile to everyone around the table. She scooted her chair back and stood, her black dress falling around her curvy figure as she urged Mila's drunken ass to stand as well. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope that you enjoy the ballet when you see it, Rachel and Dent." Then, with a breeze of perfume and cloth, she turned and walked away.

"Actually, Bruce, Maroni was let go earlier today," Rachel said quietly with an apologetic glance to Jane. "The jury decided that there wasn't enough evidence to convict him."

Maroni? Let go? Bruce felt her tense a little and tightened his hold on her. What would this mean for Jim, Will, Samantha, and Tanya? Why hadn't they called her earlier? What the _fuck_ was going on? "He must have gotten to them somehow." Jane's voice was tight and she tried to take in a deep breath. She was going to have stern words for those four once she got out of the restaurant. Hell, she might pay her friends a fucking visit.

Rachel nodded sadly. "I'm sorry," she said, mistaking Jane's tensing for fear. Jane wasn't frightened of Maroni. She just hated the guy and was pissed the hell off that her intel hadn't supplied the information up firsthand. Yeah, they had only been around for a day but still. Jane told them to tell her about this kind of shit and they didn't.

"It's not your fault Rachel," Jane shook her head. "I'm not angry at you or Dent or anything. It's just this city is so damn frightened of anything that moves. It sickens me that they're willing to let a guy like Maroni go to save their own asses."

"You can't really blame them. It's our fault for not making them feel safer about serving on the jury. If we had kept a closer eye on them none of this would have happened. They're just doing what it takes to protect what is theirs." Harvey said in defense of the jury members.

Jane huffed and cross her arms angrily over her chest. She actually agreed with Harvey a little about it. Once upon a time, she had done whatever it took to survive. Jane had fraternized with the mob – and still kind of was. She broke the law. In fact, Jane really _should_ be in jail just like Maroni should be. For her to throw around harsh words like that was completely unfair. Specifically because she, too, was in the same boat and had been there before.

But God help those four. When she got the opportunity to get her hands on them it was going to be ugly.

* * *

Alex stood back as he watched Jane and Bruce leave the restaurant. She appeared upset about something – no, she was totally pissed. He could tell by the tight yet broadening of her shoulders, the pinched look of her mouth, and the way she moved with jerkiness. Yep, something was pissing her off. Too bad it wasn't him. He'd love to piss her off. Alex would get his chance soon enough, he mused as he inhaled the cigarette, smoke curling into the face of a high-classed woman who bypassed where he leaned against the restaurant. She turned to give him what she thought was probably a mugged look, and he returned it with an air of boredom. The lady frowned and he blew smoke right into her face.

"You're not –" she began, her voice instantly annoying to his ears.

"Fuck off." He replied and turned to look at Jane once more. She stood not too far away from him, the arm of fucking _Bruce Wayne_ around her shoulders. How in the hell did she wind up in his bed spreading her legs for the likes of him? Alex thought Wayne only fucked the high-class broads. Not ones like Jane. Hmph. Maybe she had turned to whoring herself out now that she was out in the cold.

That's what the bitch deserved.

Jane seemed to realize that someone was watching her, for she turned her head to gaze in his general direction. Alex didn't really care if she saw him or not – she couldn't do anything about it. Not here in public without good ole' Batsy around to save her. Jane probably would have died in the warehouse from blood loss if the Bat hadn't shown up and rescued her after he left. Alex should probably find him and thank him before slitting his damn throat. He was glad that Jane hadn't died down there. There were so many more things that he wanted to do to her before she took her last breath. And he wanted to be right next to her in that moment anyway. Not in a car driving with a maniac and some random chick.

Her eyes narrowed when they landed with his. Alex was in the dark, so all she could see was the shadowy figure lit up by a random car's headlights every now and then. She frowned a little deeper and Bruce said something to her, distracting her and causing to break eye contact with him. He threw the cigarette down on the ground and stomped on it before turning and walking away from the two. Seeing her made his hands itch too much. It was bad enough that when he put his hands into his jacket pocket he could feel the coolness of a small switchblade. The metal teased him outrageously so, and it was with a strong struggle that he managed to _not_ take it out and bury it into her mouth.

Alex had been keeping tabs on her a lot. Most of the time she stayed in Bruce's penthouse, but recently she had left the house at nighttime to go into the Narrows. Alex had lost her trail the second night, but that first night… Well, what he had witnessed shocked him a little.

When he fought her at the warehouse, she had been too caught off-guard to show him what she really had. But he had managed to see it when she met up with Maroni's old thugs. He hadn't seen the actual fight. Once she left though, curiosity had gotten the best of him and he went in. The bodies of the unconscious were littered around the room and it was obvious that she had taken them all down herself. It had impressed him, actually. Alex didn't know that the girl had it in her.

He was all the more anxious for his future encounter with her. What kind of fight would she put up then?

Too bad Joker kept preaching patience. The fucker was starting to get on his nerves a little. Damn, that whole house was. Eddie was busy playing Doctor Strange on that chick – Rebecca? – and still hadn't given him any answers about Jane's activities in the past. Surely Jane had told her something that he could wind up using against her. Too bad Eddie was more eager to just test out his damn theories than actually get any decent work done. The fucker.

There were a few of Joker's henchmen. Scrappy guys who were crazed and dirty. Scum. People Falcone wouldn't have given a glance and ones that not even Maroni would have hired. Alex had to restrain himself not to slash through their all too eager and mindless bodies. He hated them and considered himself the only sane person in the damn house. There was also that cute but creepy chick of Joker's. Harley? Yeah, she was fucking weird as shit. Always prancing around and talking in that annoying high-pitched voice of hers. Harley had it bad for Joker which really grossed Alex out. He didn't even want to imagine what kind of fucked up sex those two had.

Forty minutes later, he stepped inside the old house. The place that he had been spending far too much time in. Instantly, he was hit with the wave of weirdness as one of the boys ran into him. The smell of alcohol his him like a bomb, and Alex snarled in disgust, throwing the guy into a wall. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" He shouted at the guy who merely blinked at him before bursting into a fit of insane laughter. "Getting fucking wasted in a place like this? What the hell is wrong with you? You have shit to do – a fucking job! How the hell do you think you're going to do that when you can't walk straight?"

"Harley Quinn said that we earned it. She said that _Mista J _wanted us to be rewarded. So he gave us all booze!" The guy – Alex didn't know his name and didn't want to know it – hiccupped. "I think there's stil some left in the kitchen if you want it."

"Where's Harley?" Alex growled.

The guy gave him a look. "Why do you want to know where Harley is? She's not with the booze."

"Where the _fuck_ is Harley?"

"Woah, man, chill. She's upstairs. Wait! Where are you goin'? You don't want any booze?" Alex stormed up the steps. That girl was dangerously getting on his damn nerves. Fuck Joker, he was going to take care of this problem here and now before it got out of hand. Reaching the top of the steps, he threw open the door to Joker's office.

"Ah, Alex." Joker said from behind his desk. "So nice of you to join little Harley and I. We were just talking about you." Harley was perched on the desk in front of Joker, and she had to turn to look over her shoulder as Alex stepped inside the office.

"Why are you giving alcohol to the men? They're going to start doing stupid shit now that'll only attract attention."

"Mista J wanted to make them happy. So I gave them the booze..."

"You could have spread your legs and that would have been fine. Not get them drunk of their asses and make them rambunctious and too stupid for their own good. This is insane and possibly the stupidest thing you could have done to _make them happy_."

Harley looked offended, but Joker merely laughed. "Calm down there _cowboy._ They're not going to get a chance to do anything stupid." Joker waved off Alex's argument easily as if it wasn't anything to even worry about. "Besides, a little bit of _fun_ never hurt anyone, right?"

"What do you mean they won't get a chance?" He narrowed his eyes at the clown. "Did you… Did you poison the alcohol?" Harley giggled, ponytails swinging as she turned to face Joker again. Joker shrugged his shoulders in neither denial nor affirmation. "Why would you kill your men? That doesn't make any sense."

"They bored me," stated in an eerie, calm voice. Rising, Joker smoothed the front of his green vest and blue shirt. He maneuvered around the desk and passed by Alex, slapping a hand on Alex's shoulder as he did so. Harley did that annoying giggle thing again, leaping down from the desk to follow, her dirty black tutu bouncing with her movements. "Let's go see how they are now."

Was he really serious? Did Joker really poison his men? Insanely curious, he followed Joker and Harley down the steps and into the main floor. Sure enough, the guy that ran into Alex was lying motionless on the floor. His mouth was open as if he had tried to scream. So Joker had killed the men. Strange… Alex decided that he was never going to eat or drink anything in the house anymore.

"Yep," Joker said, coming from around the hall where the others must have been, "they're all good. I'll need you to go find us some new men." He looked down at the dude on the ground. "But not these cause they're kind of _dead_. Live ones would be a bit better, and preferably men who aren't so useless."

Alex just kind of nodded, still trying to absorb that Joker really had just killed all of the men. It was just so…strange. Then again, Alex wasn't really dealing with someone who had ever been considered normal in his eyes. What else was he supposed to suspect? Joker licked his lips and darted up the stairs. Alex blinked, looking back down at the guy. Okay…

Deciding to check on Eddie and Rebecca, he stepped around the body and went towards the back of the house where Eddie's room was. Alex didn't understand why Joker allowed Eddie to stay around. Ever since he had allied with him a few months ago, he had done nothing but lead Alex to Jane, Rebecca, and Batman. Ever since then, he had been working on his research on the human mind and trying to figure out how to re-create whatever he had absorbed one day.

Eddie was a strange fucking guy, but not a horrible person or anything. A little sick in the head, but who the fuck wasn't in this place? Alex didn't mind his company. Eddie was more like that awkward nerd in high school that was really skittish and creepy at the same time. Apparently, one day when he was younger his dad did something really fucked-up with him, and Eddie was now super-smart. Like, Einstein smart. He had a weird obsession with riddles, Sudoku, and any other game involving thinking. Still, he was an okay guy.

From Alex's talks with Eddie, his little experiments and drugs would help enhance the power of the brain. Basically, everyone would be as smart as him. Or, at least, everyone that he chose. Rebecca's was becoming stronger according to him, and he was really excited about the improvements in her memory recognition. Alex felt that Eddie might be getting off on the disturbing events of Rebecca's life that she told him, but it wasn't any of Alex's business. He didn't really give a fuck. As long as Eddie was getting results, he would stay out of the way.

He knocked on the door first and waited for Eddie to answer. The door opened up a crack, one of Eddie's bright green eyes staring out at him before he realized who he was, and he pulled it back more. "Come in," he said as if Alex wasn't going to barge in anyway. "I don't have much of anything else to report, I'm afraid –"

"How much longer do you think until the drug will work in under, say, five doses?" Alex asked, cutting right to business. Rebecca was passed out on the bed, still handcuffed to the bed as she always was. After her encounter with that asshole of a man Joker had hired, Eddie had become paranoid that others would try to hurt his new pet and kept her in his bedroom.

Eddie scratched his head. "A few weeks maybe? There's significant advancements in the drug, and I've managed to get it down to seven doses. It shouldn't be too much longer until I can wean it down to four or five. It's kind of _difficult_ to test it out. If I dose Rebecca too much, her body will react negatively and she'll be brain dead."

"Are you monitoring her to make sure that's working? How's her memory?"

"She told me a story yesterday of when she was fifteen and had her first cigarette. I'd say that she could probably remember most significant parts of her life now."

"Good. I want to be kept updated on her progress." Eddie nodded as usual, and Alex turned, leaving the guy to his science with a smirk on his face.

Jane was going to get her life fucked up.

* * *

**Not entirely happy with this chapter. But, oh well.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hi guys. Sorry about the horribly, ridiculously long waiting period for this. School caught up and I'm trying to build some semblance of a social life haha. I hope that you will forgive me, and I want to give a huge thank-you to the reviewers. You guys are awesome :D **

* * *

Still mad as hell, Jane figured that the quadruplets should consider themselves lucky that they hadn't been around her once she found out that Maroni was back. Something that huge had happened and no one felt the need to fucking call her? What the hell did they think the word 'intel' fucking _meant_? Standing around and freeloading off the protection that she had to offer? Fuck. No. They were going to have to prove it to her that they deserved her damn help – and so far they had done a pretty shitty job of doing that.

If fucking Maroni getting out of jail wasn't something that was worth mentioning to her then what the hell was? The mob building a damn atomic bomb or some shit? They hadn't even been with her for a day and they were already screwing things up. Jane was starting to have second thoughts about this whole thing and the fury she felt at being betrayed and made a fool of made her see complete redness. She hadn't uttered a single word to Bruce once they left the restaurant. When they arrived that the penthouse, she went straight for the bedroom and practically tore the dress off. Now donned in her suit and leather jacket, she was stomping her way through the Narrows like a petulant child, hurriedly making her way towards the restaurant to see exactly what her little _friends_ were doing.

Every now and then, she stepped into the shadows. It seemed that the Narrows were a lot emptier now than they used to be. Where were all the mob dealers? The gangsters selling drugs on the street corners? The prostitutes selling their bodies down the drive? It was like a ghost town. Something that she had seen in only her western movies from time to time. With the exception of a few random men, Jane literally saw no one walking the streets with her.

Curiosity more than piqued, she hurried on, keeping one of her hands deep into her jacket pocket to keep a hold of the knife tucked inside. The fact that the streets were empty didn't calm her down at all. It only made her more nervous, mind reeling as she tried to figure out just where everyone could be. Even in the bad parts of town she expected to see _someone_. Gotham was a huge fucking city and so was its' ghetto. Seeing no one was…like walking into a horror film.

Finally, she approached the restaurant, and immediately slipped to the back. Jane didn't trust anyone enough to just prance right on inside. The half-mask obscured her identity a little, but anyone who got a good look at her could probably figure out that she was the bitch who betrayed Falcone, Maroni, and therefore the whole family. Maroni had probably assumed leadership again and though she didn't know if he was still out for her head, she wasn't going to take any chances. Just because the social order of the family might have been stabilized meant nothing. Her position was still in jeopardy and she had to play it smart.

She had just reached the window when her phone vibrated. Scrunching her eyebrows, she put her right hand into her pocket and pulled out the tiny cell that Bruce had given her after hers had somehow gotten crushed during the fight in the warehouse. She didn't recognize the number, and it was with a little trepidation and cautions that she flipped it open and held it to her ear. "Hello?" She asked, keeping her voice flat and indiscernible.

"Is this Jane?" Someone who sounded very much like Samantha asked. Oh, so _now_ they were trying to get into contact with her.

"Yes." She replied coolly. Jane wasn't going to let them get off that easy for anything. Still more than pissed off, it was going to take a lot more than a late call for them to even try to gain her trust back. If she even decided to give it back to them, of course. The opportunity was still up for debate in Jane's mind, and she was toying with the notion of just dropping the four no matter how important and useful they might be. She wasn't going to ally herself with lukewarm people.

Samantha let out a relieved sight. "Thank goodness. I, um, wanted to call and tell you about today's meeting with the other mob leaders. I'm sure that you've already heard – Maroni's back. But we didn't know until the meeting, I _swear_. Jim was sitting at the table waiting for whatever it was that we had gathered to discuss, and Maroni strolled in. He tapped Jim on the shoulder, and he had no choice but to stand and relinquish control back to him. Jane, you got to believe us. We honestly had no idea that he even had a chance of getting out."

Now, if it had been Tanya or Jim that called, Jane might not have felt that twinge of sympathy. But there was just something about Samantha that reminded her so much of Rebecca… Maybe it was the circumstances that they had come into contact were slightly similar. Maybe it was that Samantha needed to be defended in a physical fight. Maybe it was just because she looked like a young girl. Jane didn't really know why, but she felt more inclined to trust Samantha because of that.

Of course, she wasn't just going to let them off that easy. They may have picked up on that Jane felt more inclined to speak with Samantha or Will – instead of the annoying, _I am tough _Tanya and Jim – and so had pushed her to lie for them. The idea wasn't lost on her. Jane wasn't some guy. It would take more than a few sweet apologies and a pretty face to win her over in this situation.

"Yes, I already heard from a friend. And I must say Samantha that I was pissed the fuck off that no one decided to contact me about it first." Jane sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, stepping back until she rested on the wall of a building in the tiny alley next to the restaurant. She kept her eyes and ears peeled as best she could for any signs of anyone coming up on her.

"I know and we're terribly sorry about that." Samantha pleaded with her again. "We have news though. All of the families' money was in banks, right? As I'm sure you know, each bank is controlled by a separate family, but we're all pretty much connected in that we want to keep our money. Inside sources with the cops made us aware that they were closing in on us and were planning to take the cash in order to charge us. This guy – Lau, I think – told us that all of our money has been pooled together and sent to a secure location in Hong Kong."

"The cops were actually moving against you? To arrest you all somehow by basically bleeding you dry of resources?" Damn. Now _that_ was bold. Families loved money more than anyone else in Gotham and _that_ was saying something. To go after it like that so ruthlessly…it took serious guts. Or stupidity. She could decide later.

"Yes. All of the money is in Hong Kong with the Lau guy now. And…that's not all." Jane arched an eyebrow. What more could have happened at this meeting? "A guy came. The guy that's been robbing our banks – the one that wears clown makeup. He showed up tonight and offered to kill the Batman for us."

"So, this small-time thief is going to take down fucking Batman?" She snorted, almost laughing out loud but she stopped herself one she realized where she was. Samantha seemed kind of worried about it though. Like she felt the problem was more serious than how others might be treating it. "I wouldn't think over it too much, Samantha. Batman can take care of himself. That I can more than promise you."

"That's what everyone else is saying, but…I don't know. I was there at the bank when he robbed from us and he's…terrifying. There's something about him that is so different. I think we need to take him more seriously. Anyone who's bold enough to rob from the mob families has to be reckless enough to do something majorly stupid and dangerous. I think he's more than a small-time thief. Or, at least, there's the potential to be something more."

"It'll be fine. Like I said, don't worry too much over it." Jane palmed the cell phone next to her ear as she thought about what Samantha had said. Sure, whoever robbed from the mob was either stupid or uncontrolled. And dealing with someone like that could cause major problems for everyone. Samantha did have a point. So far, she was the only one to present a logical argument on this guy. Bruce had just shrugged him off and it seemed that the others were doing the same. In Jane's experiences, she had learned that it was better to not underestimate people - especially those that everyone else was. Those were the ones that ended up shocking the hell out of you before trying to rip your life apart. "But you have a point. I'll look more into it. Right now though, I think we should focus on this Lau guy. I'm going to try to find some more information about him, okay?"

"All right. Once again, I'm sorry that we couldn't get in touch with you sooner – it all happened so fast."

"Don't let it happen again," Jane warned her seriously. "I'll let you know if I find anything of importance. Stay close to Maroni. You, Jim, Will, and Tanya need to stay on his good side so that you can be kept in the loop. Make sure Jim knows that, okay? I won't have his temper ruining everything."

Samantha chuckled. "I understand. Goodbye –" Jane snapped the phone closed before Samantha could carry on. The girl might remind her of Rebecca, but Jane didn't want to let anyone that close to her again. It seemed that in the end they only got hurt. The only reason she was still with Bruce was, well, because she kind of _loved _the guy.

Figuring that the best way to start her digging up of this Lau character would be with Gordon, she pushed herself off the wall and left the restaurant. Maroni and his men were probably not in there right now, and Jane had information on who had foiled Gordon's plans that could be pivotal in trying to arrest the guy.

A while later, she stepped out of the cab – like hell she was going to walk clear across town – in front of the station. Her turtleneck was folded down and she looked semi-normal. Not that it really mattered. Gordon was probably the only one here right now. More than likely drowning his anger in a full glass of whiskey and some sad Patsy Cline shit. He seemed like that type. Patsy wasn't all that bad though, Jane herself was kind of a fan…

Jane remembered where his office was located, and wove through the empty desks in the darkened space of the Major Crimes Unit. Down the hall, she could hear voices of a few cops that were on duty, but most were probably out trying to catch Batman. Something that _obviously_ took up too much time and resources. Wasn't the enemy of your enemy your friend? Well that was what Batman was, wasn't it?

Whatever. She never understood the legal system very well anyway.

Gordon's door was unlocked, and she stepped in quickly, closing it behind her. Jane locked it behind her before she turned to look at Jim sitting at his desk doing paperwork. He looked at her over his glasses in surprise before they flickered down to notice what she was wearing. "A little early for Halloween, isn't it?" He asked and set his pen down.

She snorted, moving to plop down in one of the over-cushioned chairs that sat in front of his cluttered desk. "Hah. You're fucking hilarious. I came to tell you that I know where the mob money is." His eyebrows shot up. "Yeah, I figure out everything that goes on in Gotham. Someone tipped off a guy named Lau from Hong Kong that you guys were coming after the banks. He took the money overseas."

"That's what I was afraid of," Jim sighed and put his elbows on the desk. He removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Jane felt sorry for the guy. He couldn't seem to catch a break. "I knew I shouldn't have let Dent's office in on it."

"You can trust Harvey probably more than half the people that work under you." She scolded him. Gordon shouldn't blame Dent for this happening. After filling his ranks of the Unit with cops that Jane knew for a fact were dirty? He should be thankful that something far worse hadn't happened. Jane had told Gordon every officer that had dirty hands, but Gordon seemed to be all about second chances. He allowed them to work for him and now he was paying for that. This wasn't Dent's fault. There weren't many loyalties that Gordon could take seriously, but Jane knew that allying with the shining defense attorney was the best one he could ever make.

Gordon looked up at her, a bit startled by her harsh, accusing tone. "I had everything under control until he asked to join in. Now, all of our work is ruined."

"Not yet. We can get Lau and the money back. We just have to figure out some way to go about it…" Jane bit the inside of her cheek in thought, turning to look outside the window in search of inspiration on just how they could get Lau back. It was going to be tough – the Chinese probably wouldn't be the country to hand over a citizen of theirs to a lowly city like Gotham. Her eyes caught something, and she narrowed her eyes. "Why is the bat signal on? Is that _supposed _to be on?" She turned to look at Gordon who turned to see the signal high in the air.

Quickly, he jerked out of his seat, and she followed. Who else besides Gordon had the ability to turn it on? She always thought he was the only one who could work it. Sprinting up the staircase, she bypassed Gordon. If Bruce saw the light then he would automatically think it was Gordon wanting to talk to him. Gordon was with her, so who the _fuck_ wanted to talk to Batman? He could be walking right into a trap.

She burst through the door panting a bit because of the fucking stairs – seriously, how many flights had she just raced up? Her eyes immediately went to Dent, his blonde hair easily visible as he turned to look at her. Her eyes slid to the black figure in front of him, and she sighed a little in relief once she realized that it had been Harvey who called him here. Jane stepped forward so that Gordon wouldn't jostle into her as he pounded up behind her. Crossing her arms over her chest, she approached the two men. What were they talking about?

"Lau –" Harvey began before Jane cut him off.

"I already told him." Gordon raced behind her to shut off the bat signal, giving Harvey a look that told the attorney that he thought he was mad. Harvey regarded her with surprise and she presented him a sly smile. "I have recourses of my own, Dent." It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago the two of them had been sitting in the middle of a restaurant nursing glasses of wine and talking with ease. Damn it had been a long night.

He turned to glare back at Gordon. "If you had asked, I could have taken his passport. I told you to keep me in the loop." Dammit. They were about to start arguing. Gordon appraised him in mock amusement mixed with irritation as he put his gun back into its holster on his hip.

"All that was left in the vaults were _marked_ _bills_. They knew we were coming! As soon as _your_ office got involved –"Jane rolled her eyes. Hadn't she just talked about this with Gordon earlier? Beside her, Batman was watching the two men tense and turn on each other.

"_My office?_" Harvey shouted in Gordon's face. "You're sitting down there with scum like Wuertz and Ramirez and you're talking –" He noticed Gordon draw up tightly in defense at the mention of the two detectives. "Oh yeah, Gordon. I almost had you're rookie cold on a racqueteering beef."

"Don't try to cloud the fact that clearly Maroni's got people in your office _Dent_."

"Dammit, will you two shut the _fuck_ up?" Jane hissed, having enough of the two arguing. "It doesn't matter anymore who has men where – the money and Lau are gone and fucking arguing about it on a rooftop isn't going to make that _fact_ go away! We need to figure out how we can get Lau back here in Gotham _now_. Without him and the money, we'll never bring the mob down."

Gordon and Harvey glared at each other a bit more, both with tense jaws and shoulders before they finally broke away. Gordon turned on his heel and walked further from Dent as he tried to calm himself, and Dent turned to look between Jane and Batman. "The Chinese won't extradite a national under any circumstances." He said mostly to Batman.

"If I get him to you, can you get him to talk?" Batman asked in that raspy voice of his.

"I can get him to _sing_."

"We're going after the mob's life savings. Things will get ugly." Gordon added in. Yeah? No shit.

"I knew the risk when I took this job, Lieutenant." Harvey replied, refusing to back down from the challenge presented. "How will you get him back?" He turned back to Batman, but he had already disappeared. Forehead creasing in confusion, he looked to Jane for an explanation to which she shrugged.

"He does that." Gordon answered for her before working his way back to the stairs. Once he left, Harvey finally went back to giving Jane a probing stare.

"Never claimed to be a housewife, Dent." She said with a smile. "You of all people should know that."

"Do you still have close connections with Batman?" Jane raised an eyebrow as if to say _are you fucking serious?_ He blinked. "Of course you do. Look, I just want to talk to the guy, give him heads-up whenever someone's, you know, getting a little too close to catching him."

She snorted in amusement. "Really, Dent? Keep your hands as clean as you can and don't worry about Batsy. He can take care of himself here. Trust me. No one will ever get that close to him without him letting them."

* * *

Jane snaked her arms around Bruce's waist before she nipped him just beneath his jaw. "You know," she whispered against his skin, her lips pressed right up to him. "I should punish you for leaving me here all by myself." Bruce put his hands on her hips and pulled her flush against his own. The two were in the bedroom, keeping the close displays of affection out of Alfred's ever watching eyes.

"I look forward to it," he responded with a smirk. "Besides, I offered you to come with me. It's the trip of a lifetime. Who wouldn't want to see Hong Kong?"

"I have a feeling that you won't be seeing much of it at all. You have _work_ to do."

"We can stay an extra day or two." Bruce nuzzled his face into her hair, trying to inhale as much of her as possible to take with him to China. He didn't want to leave her here alone in Gotham. The thought of her staying behind unprotected with Maroni out drove him nearly insane, but she had refused to budge, determined to stay so she could remain in contact with her new friends.

"Bruce," she reprimanded him. "We couldn't do that even if we wanted to. Not now, at least, but maybe some time in the future you could show me Hong Kong. I'd love to once we're out of this damn war that's brewing." Bruce picked his head up and looked down at her. Jane was tall for a woman, possibly five foot nine or ten. Either way, it wasn't awkward for him to look at her at all because he didn't have to bend his head so much. He always had a thing for tall girls.

"Sounds like a plan." It meant that after everything calmed down they would still be together. Bruce would do whatever it took to stay by her side, and knowing that she shared the longing to stay with him even after everything had blown over gave him a boyish, ridiculous, and slightly embarrassing excitement. Not only were the making plans to take a much-needed vacation. They were making plans to stay by each other. It was a promise of things to come – things that he looked forward to.

He lowered his head a fraction to brush his lips against hers. She pressed against him a little harder, deepening something that was innocent and sweet into something…not. He chortled deep in his chest, loving the way that she was always eager to touch him in some way. It made him feel as if the emotions he felt weren't so one-sided. When her fingers started playing his tie though, he broke away – though painfully. Bruce wanted nothing more than to claim her once more, but if he did he'd never get out of the penthouse and on his way to bring Lau back.

"_Jane_," he said and she smiled at him coyly, wrapping her hand around his tie to tug him back down so she could kiss him again. He couldn't help but laugh against her mouth and kiss her back eagerly. But he had to go soon. He was dressed in a light suit and tie, his bag already packed and waiting for him on the boat. Jane was standing in front of him wrapped up in the sheet of his bed. Her hair was tousled, evidence of their earlier rendezvous before he finally gathered the strength to pull out of her vice-like grip and into the shower. Jane was a little minx, a temptress and seductress that made him want to do nothing more than stay in bed with her strong arms around him all day.

She braced her free hand on his shoulder and pushed him back a little. Mostly dropping her tight hold on his tie, Bruce broke away from her lips to stare down at her again. "Don't stay in China too long or else I'm coming and dragging your ass back here."

"Is that a promise?" He simpered and kissed her forehead. "I'm not going to stay any longer than I have to. After all, why stay in China when I have you to come back to?" Bruce squeezed her hips firmly and Jane snorted.

"You're so damn cheesy sometimes. I wonder sometimes how I ever got saddled with Prince Charming. But I agree – you better not stay longer in China. You still have a lot of shit to do here."

"Are you mad about Alfred's cover story?" He asked, voicing something that had been on his mind ever since Alfred came up with it. They hadn't had long to come up with a ruse for why Bruce Wayne would disappear, Dent having asked Batman to get Dent the day before.

She quirked her head to the side as if she were studying him and smiled a little. "No? Why would I be? Because Natasha's going to be on the boat, right? No, Bruce," she snorted, "I'm not mad about that. It's actually a brilliant idea. I trust you and if you do betray that trust…Well, I have plenty of shit on you and I know where you keep the batsuit. Let's just leave it at that."

He laughed at her joke, glad to hear that she wasn't getting worked up over it. He was a little disappointed that she wasn't the least bit jealous though. When he saw the daggers she shot at Natasha while they were at the restaurant had been all too rich and he had hoped to see it once more. But he wasn't going to complain. At least she wasn't a psycho bitch or anything. Jane knew where she stood with Bruce and he was glad of that. He wouldn't dare mess with anyone else while they were still together, and knowing that she was comforted with that eased his thoughts.

"Oh yeah," he pushed her hair out of her face again. Why did it always fall back? "I was wondering how you felt about that. I hoped that you wouldn't get angry over it."

"Why would I get angry?" She frowned at him a little. "I liked it." For a second, her face turned thoughtful as if she had just thought of something. "When you come back and Lao is in Dent's and Gordon's hands, I think you should really turn your attentions to that clown guy."

"The one that's robbing the mob banks?" He asked, a little interested as to why she figured him to be important enough. The guy hadn't done much damage – no one had been killed in his bank attacks. Even that manager guy was still alive. To be honest, Bruce wanted to award the guy a medal of honor for spitting into the families' faces by robbing them blind.

"Yeah," she said and shook her head. "Samantha told me about him. He's offered his services to the mob and said that he could find a way to kill you. Something about him is not right, Bruce. I think he might be a little more dangerous than we originally thought."

"All he's done so far is steal from the _mob_," Bruce smiled and brushed his fingers along her jawline in an attempt to soothe her. "He's not going to be any more trouble than that, I believe. Trust me, I know guys like these. He's just here for a little bit and then he'll disappear like they all do."

"I don't think so. I think he's someone that could cause some damage. We should take care of him before he does anything that –"

"If it'll help you feel better, I'll look into it once I come back with Lao. It's going to put our vacation back a few days though…"

She laughed and pushed against his shoulder. "I hope that it won't take that long. I'll try to get as much information as I can in the next day or two until you com e back. Who knows? Maybe I'll have caught him by then." With a wink, she stepped away from Bruce. Her hand was still wrapped in his, and she pulled him towards the bedroom door. "You, however, are going to miss your boat and flight if you don't get your ass out _now_."

"Hey, I've been trying to leave for the past twenty minutes or so and you keep trying to distract me." He retorted as they walked down the steps.

"_Trying_?" Jane looked over her shoulder and gave him a dubious look.

"Fine. You've been successful in distracting me. Better?" She nodded primly. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, she twirled around, wrapping her arms around him once more in a tight hug.

"Come back in less than perfect condition and I swear I'll kick your ass." Jane said into his shoulder and Bruce chuckled. He swiped her hair over her opposite shoulder so that he could place a little kiss right underneath her ear, one of the numerous ultra-sensitive places dotting her body.

"I can say the same for you," he whispered. "Don't get into too much trouble, you hear? I don't want you doing anything stupid and causing a big mess of yourself. Can't have you being a damsel or anything."

She huffed and pinched his back. Straightening back, she stepped out of his arms and crossed her own over her chest. "Bye, Bruce." Jane offered him a small, tight smile. Bruce could see that she was going to miss him just as much as he would miss her. "When you come back, your entire penthouse will be emptied to match your bank accounts. I don't know if I can live in this misogynistic household anymore."

* * *

"Just one more Tanya." Will said with a laugh as he sat across from the young woman. "Come on, you know you like my jokes." Wiggling his eyebrows in a seductive manner, he cleared his throat before scooting closer to her on the couch. Tanya sighed and rubbed her forehead, already tired of hearing the anti-jokes that Will had become obsessed with recently. It seemed that there was no way to get him to stop telling them however, and so she and the others had no choice but to suffer through the corny lines he had discovered.

At least, _she_ was the one suffering. After Will had cracked the first one, Jim had suddenly disappeared without a word and Samantha had trudged into the corner to curl into a book of some sort. Looking across the room at the girl sitting next to the wall, Tanya narrowed her eyes at the betrayal. Shouldn't the sweet one be made to sit here instead of her?

"What's green and has wheels?" Will asked her excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch in a childlike manner. For someone who claimed to be a rather big badass, he reminded Tanya of a toddler many times.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed once again, hoping – praying – that this would be the last one of the day. "I don't know Will," she said in a monotonous voice the same answer she had given him whenever he asked a joke. "What?"

"Grass. Just kidding about the wheels!" Will sputtered out and then doubled over from the 'hilarity' of his own joke. Tanya quirked an eyebrow. Not really finding the joke amusing in the least, she shook her head and rested her arm on the armrest of the couch. Behind her, she heard the attempted yet failed attempt at a smothered chuckle and immediately knew that the voice was _not_ Samantha's or Jim'. The two of them had peculiar snort-like laughter.

Quickly, Tanya jumped from the couch and whirled around to face their intruder. Her hand was on her gun attached to her hip just as Will was leaping up, all humor gone from his face. The child had been replaced by the badass. Thank goodness.

Jane stood in front of them, one hand covering her mouth as her other was held in front of her. She lowered her hand and cleared her throat. "Sorry, er. Didn't mean to surprise you." She said a bit awkwardly and Tanya's hand slowly fell from her side. "That was a good joke."

Beside Tanya, Will's tight frown was immediately replaced by a large shit-eating grin. She groaned, wishing that Jane hadn't said anything. Now Will was never going to stop telling jokes. Well, if Jane liked them then Jane could listen to them. _By herself._ "Good. Maybe now he can annoy you with them instead of the rest of us." She scowled and earned a surprised look from Will.

"I thought you liked my jokes?" He asked defensively, looking almost hurt enough to make Tanya regret saying what she had said. Almost. Not quite enough to make her want to sit through any more.

"I never said I did. You just assumed because I was the only one stuck with you. Apparently, I don't move away fast enough." Tanya replied before turning her attention back to their guest. A quick up and down told her that Jane had a gun stashed somewhere near her hip, hidden by the long plaid shirt and bulky leather jacket over it. She probably had a knife or two stuck somewhere in the space of her combat boots. Seriously, where did this girl shop? _Everything Grunge_? She looked like she just threw on whatever the hell was closest to her.

"Hi Jane," Samantha squeaked from the corner and Tanya heard the pleasant thunk of a closing book. Books? She hated those things. The thunk of a heavy, clunky one? Music to her ears. Whatever. She could afford to be a little weird sometimes. Living with the likes of those other three did that to a person. Give it time and even little miss Jane might start turning a little funky. Hell knew the dame needed it. Tanya thought that she herself was uptight, until, of course, she met Jane and heard Jim ragging on her like there was no time left in the world. This had been before Will had pointed out that Jim was just sour over the fact that Jane had handed his ass to him on a platter when he smarted off at her.

Tanya didn't know whether to be jealous that someone had done it before she had the chance to or marry the bitch for doing it.

At first, she didn't know whether she could completely trust Jane. The girl didn't exactly have the cleanest past and didn't seem to have a problem with throwing around loyalty to whoever could save her hide. But after hearing Will take up for her, she figured that the girl couldn't have been that bad. She did save the three of their lives earlier and that had to count for something, right? Besides, Tanya didn't have much room to judge when it came down to that shit. She had her own past and certainly didn't want anyone judging her for it. People changed, after all.

"Samantha," Jane acknowledged with a sad smile. She walked around the couch until she was standing almost beside Tanya. Eyes flickering across the room quickly, she turned to Tanya. "Where's Jim? No one's really tried to put a bullet in my head yet and I expected him to be the first to do it."

Will chuckled. "Don't worry about that. He hurt his shooting hand earlier when he tried to fix a bookshelf. Dude can't even work a hammer right."

"He should be in his room. I'll go get him and tell him you're here so that you can talk or…whatever it is that you came here to do." Tanya said as she stepped around her, heading for the hallway. The walk was quick and when she reached his door, she rapped her knuckles against it to signal that she was coming in. Waiting a few seconds, she twisted the knob and stepped in.

Jim was splayed out on his bed, the sheets tangled up in a heap at the bottom with his earphones plugged in. Since his eyes were closed, he hadn't seen her come in. Tanya walked towards him and yanked one of the earphones out, startling him and causing him to go into straight panic mode. His eyes popped open, head yanked to the side and he let out a startled, choked yell. Frantic, he kicked his way to his knees, coming to a halt as he realized just who had interrupted his little nap.

Smiling smugly, Tanya dropped the cord of the earphones and stepped out of whacking reach. "Got ya, didn't I?"

"Fuck Tanya," he hissed. Rubbing the top of his head and messing up his hair so that it stood out straight upwards, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Don't do that shit. You know I don't like it."

Tanya tilted her head to the side and gave him fake puppy-dog eyes. "Aww, I'm sorry poor Jimmy. Next time, I'll just let someone with a gun come in a wake you up next time." She snorted and placed her hands on her hips. "Maybe they'll do everyone a favor and shoot you in the face."

"Someone's here with a gun?" He pepped up, moving to stand. "What the fuck, Tanya!? Did you just leave them out there with Samantha?" Jim turned around quickly, grabbing his _Glock_ off the dresser.

"Calm down, Jim. It's just Jane." Tanya said and his shoulders immediately relaxed before stiffening again. He really did seem to have issues with that woman. "And the only person that seems to be in danger of receiving one of her bullets is you. She seems pretty fond of Samantha there, considering how Sam's the only one that's really talked to the girl."

"Fuck," Jim whispered and dropped his head back, eyes closed.

"You have a dirty mouth dude. Need some Orbit to clean it up?" She snickered at her own joke then realized how awfully similar she sounded to Will. Quickly, she cut it off, covering it up with a muffled clearing of her throat.

"You're starting to be just as annoying as Will. We can't have two of you in the house." He groaned. Tanya scowled at his back and went to the door.

"Just shut up and come on. The sooner you get out here, the sooner she can leave. And put the weapon down! She's not going to kill you if you're on your best behavior." Muttering under her breath, she walked outside the room and back into the hallway, "_too bad for the rest of us_." When she went back into the main room, Jane was seated next to Will on the couch. It seemed that Will was finishing up a joke, successfully emitting a light laugh from his sole audience member. Well, maybe now he wouldn't go pushing the damn things on everyone else now that he had someone to share them with.

Tanya decided that it was definitely odd to see and hear someone like Jane laugh. The girl – woman, _whatever_ – seemed too uptight about everything that it seemed silly to even think that she would find anything, much less Will's lame jokes, hilarious. Tanya had gotten the impression that everything was business with her. Now, she was more than a little bit confused as to what the fuck was going on exactly.

She must not have been the only one thinking that. Jim paused just beside her at the threshold of the room, his jaw dropped just a tad as Jane wiped away her tears from laughing so hard.

Fucked. Up. Shit.

Tanya nudged Jim in the side, breaking his sharp focus. Samantha looked up from her book and caught the duo's curious glances. Shrugging, she closed the book – oh sweetness. That sound. – and tucked her legs underneath her bottom, placing the thick object in her lap. Tanya decided that while listening and watching Jane lose her marbles over Will's jokes was freaky, staring intently and studying Jane lose said marbles was even freakier. She tugged on Jim's elbow and the two slowly went to the secondhand couch across from Jane and Will.

Jane seemed to sober up a bit once she realized that she had an audience and quickly cut off her chuckle. She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her hazardous looking ponytail behind her ear and sat up a little straighter. Her eyes immediately lost that glassy look of fun and was replaced with a hard wall. Tanya had to blink a few times, noticing how instantly Jane was able to shift her roles. One second, she was a careless, laughing little bitch, and the next she was as cold and hard as a rock. Rather impressive, if not a little unsettling.

"I guess we can start with the meeting that took place yesterday. Do you mind going through – in detail – what, exactly, happened?"

* * *

"So let me get this straight… The guy just walks up in there by himself and offers to kill the Batman while also pissing off Gambol, gaining a price on his head, kills one of Gambol's men, and just saunters out as if nothing took place?" Jane raised her eyebrows in surprise – and, she had to admit, impressed by the clown's tenacity – while looking at Will. "Damn."

Tanya nodded and Jane turned her head to look at her. "That he did. I thought he was a dead man as soon as he came in and admitted to taking the money. The guy was strange. A freak. Seems to be a touchy subject for him though. Once Gambol called him that, he got real testy and almost angry."

"Weird." Jane frowned. "I wonder what he wants." A guy like this was probably rather insane. He definitely belonged in the nuthouse for sure, doped up on tons of medication. After her encounter with Arkham last year, Jane had grown to rather detest mental institutions, but she knew those places were built with these kind of men in mind. A guy like this was not someone that would just disappear off the map. No, he appeared to be rather theatrical. What did he want? Money? Power? Influence? He could get that easily by buying off the cops so that they paid attention to him instead of the mobs… What was he doing with the mob now?

Samantha moved from her corner spot, drawing closer to the tight little square Jane, Tanya, Will, and Jim had formed at the couches. Clearing her throat, she ran a hand through her hair. "The guy had scars around his mouth, going upwards like a smiley face. When I first saw him at the bank, I assumed that he had been a part of a robbery gone wrong or something. What if the scars are there because he got in deep with the mob and they decided to teach him a lesson? Maybe this whole thing is just to fulfill a grudge against the mafia. A ruse, so to speak to get back at them for disfiguring him so."

"Point." Tanya said appreciatively with a nod. "That's a possibility. Though if he hated the mob, I don't understand how he was able to sit in there so calmly and only lash out once. If I was him and that had happened to me, I'd either be too afraid to act out against them or just run in and shoot the place up. If this was a vendetta, I think he would have brought more men out."

"Or he would have pulled the strings to the grenades he had in his pocket." Jim rubbed his chin. "But good guess. Hadn't thought about it from that angle."

"Maybe Samantha might be on to something here…" Will spoke up.

"We shouldn't disregard this whole scenario as a simple revenge case. Otherwise, why would he go after Batman? Or offer his help at all? I'm not saying that you're wrong Samantha, but maybe there is more to this than just that. Did anyone really get a close look at the scars? They're certainly interesting." Jane gave Samantha a smile before waiting to see anyone speak up. She wished that she could have seen the man in person. That way, she wouldn't have to rely on others for information. Damn it, if only her cover hadn't been blown before. Fucking Maroni.

"They were really bubbly," Samantha noted, seemingly not flustered that her explanation had been kind of shoved to the side. "Too messy of a job for a certified doctor to do yet not messy enough for an accident. At least, that's what I think.

"He was clearly proud of them. He outlined them with fucking red paint." Jim laughed bitterly. "He wanted everyone to see him."

Tanya piped up, "an intimidation tactic, perhaps? I know I was kind of uneasy when he walked in and I saw the paint."

"It's a mask as well." Jane pointed out. "The thick make-up hides his identity as well as intimidates people. Facial recognition software wouldn't be able to get a decent match with all of that on. Are you sure the scars were real? They might just be elaborate stage make-up to help protect him further."

Jim shrugged. "They might be fake. You can easily find out how to do that sort of prosthetic work on YouTube. It's not hard. I did it once in high school for a school play."

"Well he's a very good make-up artist then. The scars didn't have any sort of differentiations than when I saw him at the bank. He looked the same." Samantha shook her head as she dismissed the notion. "I'm fairly certain that they're real."

Jane thought for a moment. Realistically thinking, they probably shouldn't be focusing so much on the scars as they should be going over possible plans that he could have. What his motives were was far more important than his face. Yet, Jane found herself deeply intrigued by them. Who wouldn't? Scars told stories, stories about people's lives that could help them figure out more about this strange, fucked up man.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Samantha rubbing her arm before the girl delicately lifted her sleeve to her elbow. No one else was paying attention, but Jane's interest was piqued as the girl ran her fingers over her forearm, a frown etched on her face. Jim seemed to notice now, and he reached over to pull down the girl's sleeve, giving her a stern look. His eyes were soft though. Jane scrunched up her eyebrows, curious as to what the silent interaction was about.

"Samantha? Jim?" She asked, and the siblings' heads jerked towards her as they realized they were being watched. Jane gave them an expectant look.

"What if –"

"No, Sam." Jim said, cutting his sister off quickly. He put her arm down on top of her thigh, holding it there roughly. "Don't say anything. It's not important."

"Yes it is." Samantha hissed and jerked her arm away. "It could help. They certainly look similar."

"What's going on?" Tanya asked as she finally noticed that something was going on between the two and Jane.

Samantha sighed. She rubbed her arm again. "What if the scars were self-inflicted?"


	9. Chapter 9

Hi guys :D This is coming out sooner than expected due to having lots of free time lately. I cannot promise that the next one will be published so quickly.

I have updated and seriously organized my photobucket account. If you would like to see how I personally envision the characters and some edits that I absolutely love to make, the link is on my Fan-fiction profile page. Feel free to check it out and tell me what you think :)

Hope that you all have a great MLKj day. If you don't have that where you live...well... enjoy your Monday, I guess? Haha.

Special thanks to the reviewers. You guys are the awesomest and push me to keep writing. Magical cupcakes and unicorn powder to you.

* * *

Jane groped around on the bedside table, fingers slipping over the surface like water as she tried aimlessly to grab her screeching phone without moving her head from where it was buried in the pillow. "Fucking hell," she hissed as her hand refused to land on the annoying piece of shit, and she lifted her head and turned to the side, eyes instantly landing on the brightly lit and scratched screen. The light was unwelcome in her sleep induced haze and she squinted as she grabbed it. Pulling it closely while knocking off a search word puzzle booklet, she didn't even think to eye the number before flipping it open and holding the phone to her ear. Yeah, she was that fucking old fashioned that she still kept her flip phone. "It's Jane," she grumbled. "And you better be fucking important if you're calling me at this hour."

"Sorry to wake you, Sleeping Beauty." Bruce chuckled on the other end, amused by her outright grumpiness and foul temperament. Instantly, she perked up, her head picking up off the pillow again a her eyes opened to make sure that she wasn't dreaming. Jane hadn't expected Bruce to call her, and even though she hadn't really been able to sink into some sort of low depression or some crazy shit like that, she was still more than glad to hear his voice. After only being gone a day and a half so far – Jane refused to admit that she was trying _not_ to count the hours too – she just figured that he would show up whenever.

Still a little bleary and upset that she had been woken up to the screeching sounds of a fucking annoying cheap ass phone, she sat up completely now, turning so that she was sitting upright instead of lying on her stomach. "I'm going to kill you. Don't you know anything about time change? I don't give a shit what time it is over there wherever the hell you are; it's still fucking early here." Running her hands through her nappy hair, she flinched a little as it caught the thick tangles. How did she always manage to get those?

"Calm down, I'm not in Hong Kong. Alfred and I are in California at the private airport waiting to start the flight back to Gotham. I just figured I would go ahead and call you before I got on the plane and what not. Alfred has been nagging me and saying that I need to sleep since I haven't lately."

"You mean to tell me that you haven't slept at all in the past two days?" Jane was a little miffed that he wasn't taking better care of himself. He wasn't twenty anymore and wasn't going to be able to recoup as well as he used to. Even Jane tried to get a decent amount of sleep every night and _that _was saying something.

"It hasn't been two days yet, Jane." She could hear him laughing a little and imagined him shaking his head at her, equating her tone to Alfred's. Oh well. Whatever. The dude needed people to tell him how to take care of himself since he obviously couldn't do it by himself. Someone had to step in and it appeared that she and Alfred had been the ones that spoke the loudest. They were, after all, the two people that were the closest to him.

"Don't start that shit with me Bruce." Jane growled. "You need to start taking better care of yourself or else you'll fall apart. You won't be young forever, you know? Honestly, you would think an educated white guy would understand that concept. But no, Ivy League education obviously didn't do shit for you, now did it? You're just as dumb as the rest of us. Might want to call that fancy school of yours and get that ton of money you spent going to it."

"I swear, some days it seems that you and Alfred are trying to team up against me. I'm not too sure how I feel about this." Bruce said and Jane kicked the covers off of her, suddenly feeling rather warm and lonely in the room. Without Bruce and Alfred in the apartment, the huge penthouse felt bigger than it already was, and just… bare. Not like home or how it felt when the gentlemen were there. She especially missed Alfred's cooking. Despite his lessons, she still had mediocre skills. Her simple soup-making though, was fabulous and she had basically fed off of one huge pot since they left.

"And _I _swear, sometimes I think you just try to irk the shit out of me." Pushing herself to stand on the bed, Jane jumped off and landed smoothly on the floor before walking out of her's and Bruce's bedroom. Bare feet padding up the steps, she listened to Bruce say something to Alfred about the plain before he sighed and his attention reverted back to her. "Problems?" She asked.

"We're about to take off. That means I have to hang up on you. So yes, this is a problem."

She snorted. "You are such a softie, Bruce Wayne." Even though her words were taunting though, she couldn't help the beam that spread across her face. Reaching the landing for the upper floor of the penthouse, she made her way to the private gym for her morning workout. She missed having Bruce spar with her. Boxing with a weighted bag was not the same as punching a live human who could twist and turn and do other cool shit like that.

Bruce laughed at her comment. "I hope others don't view me that way. I'll see you sometime tonight or early tomorrow morning. Try not to get yourself killed." Why did he always feel the need to tell her that? Jane was perfectly safe here. Bruce had the best security system in all of Gotham. It was kind of funny – and adorable, if not slightly annoyingly so – that he was _so_ protective of her despite her protest against it.

"Oh please. How about _you_ try not to get _yourself _killed." Jane shook her head as she stepped into her workout tennis shoes. "I'll see you soon Bruce. Stay safe." She closed the phone and placed it on the counter behind her. Walking towards the center mat, she looked down at Gotham through the wall to ceiling windows. Bruce did have good views. She had to give him that. The dude could pick out a nice piece of real estate. From up here she could see all of the north side of Gotham and no Narrows. _Awesome_.

In the middle of one of her stretches, a loud crash echoed through the high-ceiling room and Jane instinctively fell to the ground, covering her head as glass splintered around her body. Was that a fucking bomb?! Her arms were scratched as glass window shards buried themselves in her tender skin and she hissed at the pain. Sucking in her stomach and trying to flatten her body against the floor as much as possible, Jane scooted backwards using her knees and elbows. The padding of the mat helped her a little but she moved faster once she hit the slick tiles. It was an awkward wiggle sort of movement, but she didn't think about how ridiculous she looked as more bullets rained through the window. One of the televisions behind her exploded as a bullet pierced through the middle.

Jane cursed and rolled to the side, crying out as more glass buried deeper and deeper into her flesh. She could feel it tearing off and ripping. Shit. Scrambling, she continued until her side hit the wall. One more shot rang out – this one implanting itself into the closed door directly behind her. It was a little too close for comfort and Jane practically tried to become a part of the floor as she covered her head. Glass was fucking everywhere and cold wind was sucked into the room. She shivered, counting to herself as she waited to see if there would be any more shots.

Who the _fuck_ had tried to use her for target practice? Her mind naturally pictured Alex but she immediately pushed that notion away. Alex was far too angry and far too proud to shoot at her like that. Especially sniper style. His distaste for guns was much, _much_ stronger than Bruce's. Never would he use one when he could manhandle her.

Maroni? That was possible. Jane had almost forgotten about him with the whole debacle with Alex and the introduction of a creepy fucking psycho clown. Tyrone again? Possibye. He certainly hated her enough to come after her. But he was in prison…

_Who the fuck tried to shoot her? _

The phone shrieked from where she had left it on the counter. Jane turned her head to look at it, eyeing it from all the way across the room. Biting her lip, she knew that the smartest thing to do would be to ignore the call, but Bruce was the only one who had her number. The security system must have told him that someone had fucking _shot_ through the window. She had to get to the phone before he completely flipped his lid but she didn't know if the shooter was waiting for her to come back in sight again. There wasn't anything movable to hide behind near her.

Getting an idea once her eyes landed on a large piece of cracked television screen, she reached back for it. She gripped it tightly enough before whirling it across the room and ducked back down again. Sure enough, another shot fired out, piercing the screen as it fell and splitting it in half. A dead fucking shot. _Shit_ this guy was good. The phone's ringtone died down and Jane decided that she was just going to have to cut her losses with that. She turned – trying to keep as low as possible – and did a weird shuffle to the door. Bracing her palms against the ground, she reared up quickly, grabbed onto the handle, and pulled quickly before falling back against the floor just in time to miss another shot that rooted the wood just where her head had been.

Sheer. Fucking. Luck. If that qualified under the circumstances…Was luck even an option when one was being shot at?

Jane would have been rather damned impressed it the shooter wasn't fucking aiming at _her_. Trying to ignore just how accurate the sniper was close to actually hitting her, Jane slipped her fingers into the little crack and opened the door. More shots came in rapid succession, but Jane was already out the door and around the little bend. Sitting up, she felt her heart race as she tried to calm herself down. Seriously, what the fucking hell was going on? Jane rested her back against the wall, thankful to be out of the gym and mostly out of eyesight from the windows.

Her arms went back to cover her head as more shots fired through the door. Wind splintered everywhere, a few pieces hitting her leg as the door practically exploded. Jane grabbed onto the staircase railing and hauled herself up, quickly flying down the steps. There was a phone in the kitchen that she could get to easily. To get there though, she would have to bypass the windows in the living room. Why the hell did Bruce think that wall to ceiling windows were a great idea?

"Fuck!" Jane screamed just for the hell of it as she careened to a halt at the end of the steps, jerking herself back a little to avoid being in view of the windows. The shots upstairs had stopped but that didn't mean that the shooter had left. She would just have to be quick. Quicker than she had ever been. Biting the inside of her cheek nervously, Jane dropped into a makeshift running stance before pushing her heel off of the bottom step, instantly stepping into a fast rhythm. Windows smashed as bullets chased her, and she pushed her legs faster to get to the kitchen. A bullet pierced the back of her arm and she clenched her teeth tightly as blood began to roll down her arm. Finally, she almost reached the end and leaped for it. Her body disappeared behind the counters and separated wall. Her body slid down the tiles a little further than expected, skin squealing unpleasantly against the tiles until she came to a stop.

The bullets stopped and Jane struggled to learn how to breathe again. Finally, she calmed down after a few seconds and was able to think again: Bruce. Phone. Freaking out. Bruce wasn't logical when he freaked out.

She crawled on her non-injured hand and her knees to the counter where the phone was sitting, staying low to keep out of sight from the windows. Jane really hated the windows now. Floor to ceiling windows were bad. Fuck the view. When she lived at her old place in the Narrows with the tiny windows she never had fucking snipers after her. Snapping her hand up, she grabbed the phone and cradled it to her chest protectively before falling back into a sitting position on the ground. Her left arm was hurting too badly to use it, so her right hand worked awkwardly to hold the phone and dial the numbers at the same time. One she punched Bruce's number in; she put the phone up to her ear, wincing a bit as her bullet wound pounded a little. Damn it. How was it that she always seemed to get hurt in the arms?

"Jane! What the hell is going on?" Bruce immediately screamed into the phone. "Are you okay? What happened? Who's there? Gordon is already on his way. _Jane, are you okay?"_

"Bruce – Bruce! I'm fine. I got shot, but it's okay. It was a sniper from somewhere across the street. I don't really know which one – maybe Ritz Towers or something. I wasn't really able to look. Everything's fine except for your windows. They're kind of, uh, gone."

"Are you bleeding a lot?" He said just as frantically as before, eager to know what condition she was in rather than inquire about any property damages. Aw, how sweet.

Jane looked down at her arm and saw some blood running down the length. It wasn't a whole lot - not as much as there probably could have been. It looked as if it was a minor enough wound. She certainly looked a lot worse than she felt. Jane would still need to wrap it up against soon though just to make sure. She tried not to move her arm as she lowered herself a little closer to the floor, bracing her feet against the counter across from her. "No. The bullet didn't do too much damage. I think the glass probably hurt the most."

"Stay with me until Gordon and his men get there, okay? It shouldn't be too much longer." Ah shit. She looked down at her arms and legs, seeing how badly her skin was torn up. It seemed that all of the glass from the windows had found themselves impaled in her body. Great. More fucking scars. Her body was going to start looking like a road map soon if she didn't start being more careful.

Sickengly, she thought about how ironic that was. Just earlier she had been berating Bruce for not taking care of himself and here she was.

"Okay." Jane was instantly soothed by the knowledge that Gordon was already on his way and the fact that Bruce was on the phone with her. She tried to take deep, steady breaths to keep her heart rate low. As she sat there waiting for the sounds of boots outside of the door, she couldn't help but run over the list of people that might have tried to have her killed.

Damn. She really had a fucking _list_ of people?

* * *

"Ouch! Dammit Rachel, I'm _fine_." Jane grimaced as she tried to pull her arm away. Rachel held on though, and despite Jane's protests, she clamped down even harder and pinched her skin against the white bandage. Jane growled in displeasure at the slight pain. "You've been working at it for forever now. I don't think it's going to get any fucking tighter! If it did, I wouldn't have any blood circulating through it."

"Oh don't be such a baby. You would think that after how many times you've been shot that you would be able to take a little bit of hurting." Rachel rolled her eyes but removed her hand anyway. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out another wad of clean napkins. "Why do you always seem to get in these sorts of situations?" Dabbing the napkins on Jane's bloody arm, she tried to clear off some of what wasn't already dried off. "You and Bruce both can't stay out of trouble, can you two?" She continued in a hushed voice as a cop strode past.

Jane automatically shrugged her shoulders out of habit. Rachel did sort of have a point. Jane had a knack for getting into fucked up situations and Bruce… well… he kind of brought those upon himself. Pain shot up the side of her arm and she instantly regretted it. Damn, this was going to take a lot of getting used to. Fucking sniper. Fucking sniper with a good aim. Fucking floor to ceiling windows. Fucking idiotic cops trampling around Bruce's fucking expensive-ass apartment. Fucking Rachel with her damn first aid kit in her purse. Fucking…everything. Yeah, that seemed right. Fuck everything.

Rachel re-tightened the bandage she had oh-so-expertly wrapped around her arm. Harvey had probably learned from Gordon what had happened and had contacted Rachel. Jane had been perfectly comfortable sitting on the floor waiting for the cops, but when Rachel had burst in right before Gordon she was caught off guard. Rachel had practically jumped on Jane the instant she walked in despite Jane's attempts for the woman to get down on the ground – after all, the sniper could still be there – but the dammed woman had totally ignored her.

Figured. Jane looked down at the bandage job and had to admit that it was pretty decent. She herself could have wrapped it up but doing it without the use of both of her hands would have been extremely, extremely difficult. Good thing Rachel had come in otherwise Jane probably would be in an ambulance on the way to a hospital by now. All of the glass had been pulled off and Rachel had wiped off most of the blood. Her tank top had been ripped from the glass so it found a new home in the trashcan. The two of them had made quite a show for some of the cops. Jane in her bra and shorts with Rachel looking like a secretary wiping the blood off of her.

Looking up to see Gordon making his way towards her, she smiled a little. Finally someone was going to rescue her from Rachel's play doctor-ing. Honestly, how many times was she going to re-wrap her arm? Maybe she _should _be a little more careful. Rachel really had taken good care of her for a while. Gordon crunched a few pieces of scattered glass before he stopped in front of her.

"I think you've done a good enough job there, Rachel," he commented with a grin. _Finally_ a sympathetic ear. Jane gave him a grateful look and tried to tug her arm out of Rachel's grasp once more. Was she seriously situating the pinning again? Jane pulled a little harder and was a little surprised at how claw-like Rachel's hands were; holding on to her as if she was a rock and Rachel was lost at sea about to drown. Damn. The tiny woman was quite strong. Must be those weird rich-people exercises like Yoga and Pilates that made her that way.

Rachel chortled but nonetheless removed her hands from Jane's arm with a dejected sigh as if she was sorry that she had to give up being the caretaker. Maybe it was that maternal instinct thing that women – besides Jane – were born with. Well, Jane summed up that maternal instincts, while handy, caused women to go a bit overboard and therefore _sucked_. Quickly as to make sure that Rachel wouldn't turn back and grab her before holding Jane against her chest, Jane scooted over a little bit. "I've already heard it all from Jane here and I don't need to hear any more flak from anyone else. Not even you Jim."

"Found anything across the street?" Jane inquired desperately trying to get the attention away from the fact that for once, Rachel was taking care of her. Quite unnerving when she really thought about it. But then again, Jane found it odd and totally insane when anyone was showing her any kind of kindly affection like that. It made her feel… funny. She cleared her throat and looked up at Gordon expectantly.

"I sent some men over to the building right across the street but they didn't find anything. Seems to be that he cleaned up after himself very well. He probably used the rooftop in order to get the right shot. The other floors or too low to get a decent shot in and the trajectories would have been different if he shot from a low angle. He had to be roughly equal, and from the rooftop he kind of is. My detectives are interviewing people that are over there and pulling video tapes – that sort of thing to see if anyone saw someone who wasn't supposed to be there or heard something strange. Standard cop things like that. As of now, we have nothing to go on besides the bullet casings here."

Jane nodded her head and stood. Moving her hurt shoulder a little, she winced slightly but tried to ignore most of the pain as well as she could. She'd been through worse. A bullet scraping wasn't going to hurt her too badly. Walking past Gordon, she looked down at the shattered remains of the windows. Scanning the ground, she bent and picked up one of the bullets that one of the cops must have grazed over. She held it in her hand, feeling of the weight. Placing it in between her index finger and her thumb, she squinted her eyes to look at it more closely.

"Looks like you won't find any obvious custom ridges or anything. It feels standard for a sniper rifle and I can't feel anything around the shell. I've never used these kinds of guns so you'll have to do a closer inspection." Jane shoved the bullet into her pocket and turned back to face Gordon and Rachel. "He's probably some sort of professional. No amateur would have that kind of accuracy. You're looking at a hit man or mobster – a high ranked guy. He also failed to kill me, so… you might want to start keeping an eye out on dumpsters and the bay area. No mobster would let this kind of failure go by."

"You know this all by looking at a shell case?" Rachel asked incredulously. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, cocking a hip out a little as she tried to maintain a smile over Jane's little diagnosis.

"No," Jane chuckled. "I just know how Falcone handled these kinds of things and honestly, how much different could other mob bosses be?" Pausing for a moment, she frowned. "I sound like a pretentious know-it-all bitch when I say stuff like that, don't I?"

"Just a little." Rachel admitted. "But at least most of the time you're right. If you were wrong, we'd make sure that you wore a muzzle the whole time so that you couldn't speak."

"Great." She huffed and crossed her arms, then remembered that her arm was hurting once pain started flaring. Fuck. She dropped her arms back down at her sides, sort of at a loss as to what to do with them now. Placing her free hand in her pocket, Jane looked out the window – what was left of it anyway - and across the street to the building that Gordon had pointed to earlier. Whoever had tried to kill her was going to pay a fucking _lot_ once she found out who it was.

Gordon cleared his throat and moved to stand beside her. "Jane, I'm going to have to ask you to leave this to us to handle. Loeb is cracking down on us down at the precinct and if he finds out that you're helping us…" Oh that's right. Jane wasn't on good terms with Loeb anymore. She had forgotten about a lot of things.

"He'll get pissed off, you'll lose your job, and shit will go down." Jane sighed. "Yeah, I'll stay out of your way and won't go out and play vigilante. Promise." When she turned her head to smile reassuringly at Gordon, he sighed with relief. She knew that he wasn't worried about interfering with his investigation, but with a case like this he probably wanted to prove to her that he was still a good detective without her help. Which was totally fine, if not bothersome. Bruce kind of had that thing sometimes to. Must have been a man thing.

"Sadly, yes." Gordon sighed. Lifting a hand, he ran it across his mustache a few times before adjusting his glasses. A cop came over to ask him something and Jane turned her attention back to the window, paying special attention to look at the rooftop that it appeared the sniper had been using.

Jane wanted nothing more than to track down the shooter herself. She could probably use Jim, Tanya, Will, and Samantha to scout out the mob families that Jane wouldn't easily be able to see herself. Together, they could find out who put the price on Jane's head easily. It obviously wasn't Maroni – they would have warned her. They certainly wouldn't hold that back from her.

Jane was now somehow reassured that she trusted them enough to know they wouldn't stab her in the back. They had plenty of opportunities to try and kill her but hadn't taken it. And what sort of things could Maroni gain by using them to get to her? She knew nothing. If Maroni was using Will and the others then he also wouldn't have drafted a sniper to kill her. That was too expensive and too risky. There was too much room for error, as she had proved to herself and the sniper today. Maybe Tyrone had somehow gotten out and had it out for her. She had given him plenty of reasons to do so. If he had left prison though, he probably would have went straight back to Maroni.

Ugh. She had to stop thinking about it. The more she mulled it over, the more she wanted to go out and start hunting the guy down herself. She had just told Gordon that she wouldn't do such a thing and she intended to keep to that as much as possible. Trying to push the thoughts out of her head – which was a damn thing hard to do – she bit the inside of her cheek and faced Rachel. "Have you gotten a dress for that fundraiser Bruce is throwing for Dent? I'm guessing that we'll have to move to the other penthouse since this one is kind of," she paused and looked down at the floor, digging the toe of her tennis shoe onto a shard of glass, "_ruined_."

"Are you trying to ask me what I think you're going to ask me?" Rachel's whole face lit up. "Jane, I thought you'd never ask. Of course I'd love to have a shopping girl's day with you! This is great since I haven't bought mine yet – oh gosh, I haven't even _thought_ about that since I received the invitation."

Gordon politely excused himself now that the two were discussing womanly things and Rachel came over to Jane. The cops were beginning to gather the evidence they had collected, forcing the two to retreat to Bruce's and Jane's bedroom to avoid getting trampled. "I didn't _ask_ if you wanted to have a shopping date. I merely asked if you had picked out what you were wearing. Shopping was nowhere in that sentence, I believe."

Rachel puffed and rolled her eyes. "Sure, yeah, whatever Jane. You and I both knew what you were trying to say. Anyway, what were you thinking? You could probably wear something really tight since you're so small and fit. Damn, I'm jealous." Rachel lifted a hand and pinched the toned muscle of her upper right arm, then moved to grab onto the side of her waist. "I can barely grab onto you."

Jane batted Rachel's probing hand away. "Would you shut up? I don't want to wear anything _tight_ regardless of my size. I don't want to look like one of Bruce's damn floozies walking in there."

"Oh that's right! We have to make you look super elegant – not that something skin tight would make you look like a skank. I see what you're saying though, I guess. Shame. If I had your body, I'd wear my clothes so tight you wouldn't be able to get a needle through it. Did I ever tell you that you have nice hips?"

"Would you shut up?" Jane hissed much to Rachel's amusement. The woman giggled like a child and reached around her to pat Jane's bottom.

"And a nice ass." Jane was forced to turn on her heel as Rachel twirled her around. "Yes, you _do_ have a nice ass. What's your workout routine? I may have to start doing that."

Rolling her eyes, Jane turned back around and scowled at the woman. "I kickbox and shit like that. Once you start, call me, I'd love to see you try Miss _Yoga and Pilates With A Fat Free Berry Banana Smoothie Afterwards_." Smirking, she went over to the closet and began rummaging through her clothes, grabbing a pair of jeans and a red sweater. "I'm going to need some help getting the sweater on, I think. Hopefully the throbbing will be down by tomorrow."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed and worked Jane's sports bra off. "It would suck having a hurt arm when you're trying to dance and stuff. Especially with _Brucie_." While Jane gagged at the obnoxious nickname, Rachel laughed.

"What are you, twelve years old again?" Rachel didn't reply and the two women worked at Jane's pants. Jane had dressed herself before while recovering from a wound like this a few times, but it was much easier having someone there to help her. What would have normally taken her a lot of grunts, groans, hisses, and pain along with time took her about five minutes with only minute throbs from her arm. Rachel proved to be really good help and stayed mostly silent throughout the process.

An hour later, Jane was slumped down on one of the seats of a fancy dressing room while Rachel turned this way and that, admiring her reflection in the mirror. Never had Jane imagined that picking out a dress would take so damn long. She thought you just went into a store, grabbed the one you liked, and tried it on before buying it. But apparently not. Not with Rachel, at least. As soon as the two women had walked into the fancy shmancy boutique, they were assaulted with a bombshell redhead salesperson who obviously knew Rachel from other purchases. They had been pushed into a large dressing room and given a full rack of options. The sales woman let them know that if they couldn't find anything in the rack to their liking that they should _inform her and she would gather them more selections_. She was there to _cater to their every whim and desire_.

Uhm. Did this shit normally go down like this? Picking out a dress was so much more simple when Alfred did it all for her. Jane didn't even have a clue where to begin.

Luckily, she didn't have to. The two decided once the woman gave them the rack that Rachel would go first since Jane didn't find the whole thing terribly exciting. But whatever. She had to have a fucking dress so she might as well get someone who liked this sort of thing to help her. It might make the process less painless. Yes, Jane loved wearing dresses and feeling pretty and shit, but she didn't really care about the whole trying on part. Rachel smoothed the front of the bright red number with her hands and cocked her head to the side.

"I don't think this is right." Immediately, she flung it off and hung it back on a hanger before opening the dressing room door. Jane closed her mouth, having been about to say that she really liked the dress. Rachel handed the discarded dress to the sales woman. Her hands then instantly groped for a dark blue three quarter sleeved gown. "So, what do you think you might get? Any kind of style or color that you prefer?"

Jane thought for a moment as Rachel pulled the dress on. "Not really. Just something… comfortable would be nice." Rachel paused and gave her a steely glare.

"Comfortable? Jane, dresses were not made to be comfortable." She looked back to the mirror and played with the neckline before sighing and pulling it back off. "I think you should wear purple. I've never seen you in a girly color before come to think of it. Or pink or yellow – those are super girly and will look good with your blonde skin. Though you're kind of pale for light colors come to think about it."

"I wear girly colors sometimes." Jane said defensively. "I just don't wear them a lot… Not when you're around at least. My tennis shoes earlier today had pink on them."

"Whatever. Tennis shoes don't really qualify in this situation." Rachel scoffed as she pulled a blue-green short sleeved dress from the back of the little rack their attendant had brought for them. Her eyes lit up a little as she felt the loose material. "_This_ is gorgeous." Immediately, it was off of the rack and on her body. Jane had to admit that it looked very nice on her, hugging Rachel's waist and hips. The fabric strips highlighted her figure and gave her a more defined shape. Rachel also seemed to approve of the dress. Smiling at the mirror, she turned around several times to examine it from every angle possible. "I think this is definitely the one. What do you think?"

"It's very pretty on you." Jane said with a smile. Reaching out to feel the material, she nodded her approval. "It's really soft, too. Must be comfortable."

Rachel snorted in a very unladylike manner. Turning around once more, she pulled the sleeves down and slipped out of it even though she didn't seem pleased. Putting the gown on the hanger, she opened the door and handed it off to the attendant. "I'll take this one, thank you." After the door closed behind her, she faced Jane and pointed at her. "Now it's _your_ turn."

While Rachel got dressed, Jane flipped through the dresses on the rack. "I don't know what would look good on me. I only wore a dress once and Alfred picked that one out for me."

"I remember seeing that one in the papers the next day. Gosh, that was _gorgeous_. I was so jealous that you were able to get your hands on it before I could." Rachel swooned, stepping into her shoes. "Well, I guess you'll just have to try them all on then and see what works best. Here, try this one." She shoved a purple one into Jane's arms. Stepping back, she looked at Jane expectantly.

"I, um, need some help getting out of the clothes…" Jane said awkwardly with a sheepish smile. This whole _I need help to put on and take off my damn clothes_ was getting pretty old. How long was this pain going to last? Damn. Well, on the plus side… Tonight once Bruce got home he would have to help her take off her clothes instead of Rachel. A sneaky smile played across her lips. She really did miss Bruce. That also wasn't the only thing that she missed… Oh damn. She was blushing now. Fuck. Hopefully Rachel wouldn't notice and start teasing her.

"Oh! Sorry." Rachel didn't seem to notice Jane's flushed features as she helped Jane work her way out of the clothes before pulling the dress over her head. Jane slipped her arms through the sleeves as her head went through and the dress fell down to the floor. The zipper was on the left side, so Rachel had to pull it up for her. Once it was situated, Rachel stepped back and looked her up and down. A slow smile spread across her face. "I think we might have found your dress."

Deciding to finally look in the mirror, Jane did, and was struck by seeing herself in something that was, in fact, super tight. The collar of the dress was extremely high, covering her collar bones in a straight line to the ends of her shoulders before trailing down into long fitted sleeves that stopped at her wrists. The front of the dress was very form-fitting and plain. It gave the illusion that she had curvier hips than she actually did, and at her knees the dress flared out into a trumpet-style bottom. When she turned to look at the side, the bottom swirled around her calves. While the front was plain, the back was not. There was a long, curved dip that reached the small of her back before falling down a little more in a loose bunch. A small band of diamond studs was stretched just below her neck in a straight line to connect the shoulders and to hold the dress together.

It was simple, sexy, and elegant.

And it was absolutely perfect for her.

The long sleeves would cover up the majority of her scars – as well as her newly acquired bandage – and she could move around easily in the garment. It fit her like a glove and was extremely comfortable despite what Rachel had said. Jane turned back around to look at the front and Rachel squealed at the sight of her smile. "I knew it! The dark fuchsia _is_ perfect for you! So is the tightness! See, I told you that you wouldn't look like a slut." Rachel stepped forward and ran her arms down the curved waistline. "It will cover up most of your scars to," halting, her eyes flickered up to Jane's, "not that they're bad –"

"No, no, Rachel," Jane reassured her so that the woman would know that she hadn't taken any offense to the statement, "it's okay. I kind of wanted them covered up. Especially the fresh ones since the redness won't go down for a few days. You can still lightly see a few on the back but I think they're fine don't you?"

"Yes. Absolutely. Trust me, Jane, no one is going to be paying attention to your scars when they see you in this dress. It really is just _perfect _for you." Jane smiled at the compliment and looked at the mirror again. Even though her cheek s and chin has minute little scratches and her hair was in a mess, in this gown, she felt beautiful.

Jane couldn't stand to be in the apartment after she and Rachel finished their shopping. After bidding good-bye to the other woman, she dropped off her bags and went back outside to revel in the crisp air. Being in the apartment with the windows gone and after the events of the morning seemed… wrong. Like her privacy had been completely invaded. An unseen enemy was out there and she had no idea as to whom he was working for. That made her more uneasy than anything else. Jane felt totally exposed when she went through the apartment. Even though the sniper was gone – to her knowledge – it felt as if he was waiting for her to walk past the windows again so that he could shoot her.

Shivering from the thought, Jane pulled her raincoat around her and walked through the doors. She was waiting for Bruce to get there before she moved to the other penthouse. He hadn't been able to contact her due to the heavy clouds and rainfall in Gotham so she didn't know where he was yet. Rachel had offered to take her back to her's and Dent's apartment, but Jane didn't feel like watching the two love birds until Bruce arrived. So, she decided to head to the Quad's – that was what she had dubbed Tanya, Will, Samantha, and Jim now – and ask if anything else had happened.

Samantha's revelation of self-harm hadn't exactly surprised Jane. Sure, she never thought about it, and there was never a sure-fire way of knowing if someone was a cutter or not, but when Sam said that she used to hurt herself when she was a teenager wasn't surprising at all. Jane had seen a lot of shit growing up. Being a high schooler and going to a shummy school, she had seen a fair share of people who did that to themselves. Plus, Jane had been taught by Alex and Falcone how to read people easily, and while she was no expert in the matter, she figured that something had to happen in Sam's and Jim's early lives to make them turn to mob life.

She could understand why the duo would turn towards that lifestyle. Jane had been a part of it once and knew the lure. Protection, security, and unity. Something that was extremely appealing to people trying to escape bad pasts. What kind of things the two had gone through were a mystery to her, but her interest was piqued and it would stay that way until someone talked. Jane would never push them to say anything though. While Samantha might have been a little more open about it, Jim obviously wasn't.

Thinking about the scars, Jane's mind instantly went to the clown's. Samantha had said that she used to use her brother's pocket knife when she cut, and the scarring was similar. Roughly done even though hers were light with age and the fact that she didn't seem to cut very deeply. Just knowing that the clown might have done _that_ to himself made Jane all the more… troubled about him. Beforehand she had never really given him much thought, casting him off as a mere bank robber with an eye for dramatics. Now, though, he seemed like he might be more trouble if he was never caught. Once Bruce got back, the two of them would have to start doing something to track this character down and get him to Dent or Gordon.

* * *

Jane didn't know it, but Alex was following her as she walked down the street, heading deeper and deeper into the meadows. He was charged with keeping her alive – to serve both his own desires and Joker's – and the bitch certainly wasn't making it easy for him. Already he had stopped several of Maroni's men from nabbing her. They were light pickings though, and she probably could have taken care of them. Still, he didn't want to risk it. He had waited far too long for his revenge and he was waiting for her perfect moment to snap at it.

The bitch really did need a good wake-up call though. She had become far too complacent and let her guard down. Her mind was preoccupied with other things. Alex would bet money that her mind was filled with thoughts of that asshole Bruce Wayne. Why that guy found Jane to be enticing was lost on him. He seemed to be one of those hit-it-and-quite-it kind of guys. But he surprised Alex, moving Jane from the Narrows and into his own fucking penthouse.

Something about that whole situation was weird to him. What would Bruce have to gain from fucking a girl like Jane? Yeah, Alex had to admit she was decent looking, but he knew from experience that she wasn't the best lay around. Not when compared to other women Bruce could probably woo into bed. She probably wouldn't be willing to do freaky things either. When he saw her at the warehouse she was just as stiff as the last time he saw her years and years ago. She couldn't be a drug mule. Jane wouldn't resort to that sort of thing after seeing what that shit did to people when she was with the family. Even Falcone couldn't convince her to dabbling in the profitable dealing world.

So why was he saddling up with her? It didn't quite make sense to Alex. Maybe the guy had a rebel street and got off on saving some bitch from the streets? Maybe they had somehow met and she conned him into taking her in? There were numerous possibilities, but none that snapped the pieces of the puzzle completely together. While Bruce Wayne seemed like a dumbass, the man couldn't be _that_ dumb. He was sitting on top of a fortune for crying out loud and had yet to lose it. Alex shook his head. Whatever the guy's fucked up reasons were Alex didn't want to think about it too much. He still had a vengeance to carry out and Jane would still be dead soon no matter who she was fucking.

Up ahead, he could see a flicker of a shadow moving in the alley. Slowing down, he let the distance between his and Jane's walking figure become further apart. She passed the particular alley. Seeing the moving again, Alex took his hands out of his pockets and readied himself to grab the thug. It was probably another one of Maroni's men. Honestly, Jane was a fucking idiot outside. Did she really think a hood and some bad weather was going to make Maroni lay down? Why was she constantly coming down to the Narrows anyway? He knew she had friends down here – still a strange concept – but was meeting them really that important to risk her life like this?

Jeeze. It was crazy how the bitch managed to survive without him.

Alex stepped to the side at the mouth of the alley out of the thug's sight. Watching carefully, he observed the man step out. Instead of immediately following Jane like Alex thought he would, the thug pulled out a gun instead. Eyes widening with panic for a moment, Alex launched himself forward and grappled with the guy. The gun was in Alex's hands and his arm around his neck. Jane was far enough away that she didn't hear Alex knee the guy in the back before yanking him into the darkness of the alley.

Tossing the gun away, he pushed the thug against the side of a building and wrapped one hand around the guy's neck. "Did Maroni fucking send you?"

"Man, I'm not talking," the guy rasped. His hands went to cover Alex's, pulling at the grip in an attempt to get loose. Alex wasn't having any of that and squeezed again. The man gasped emptily for a few moments before Alex let go. "Fine! Fine! It was Maroni. He told me to keep an eye out for her down here because she used to live down this street. Please don't kill me, man. _Please_."

Alex growled. Maroni sure did hire some fucking weak-ass pathetic creatures nowadays. "Was Maroni behind the sniper earlier this morning? The one who shot at Wayne's penthouse uptown." The attack on Jane had caught him by surprise and he had watched from across the street as the apartment was shot to pieces. He hadn't been able to gauge where the sniper was shooting from and not knowing whether she had survived or had died had made him extremely agitated. He refused for her to die so easily. Luckily, she had managed to somehow live through it all.

"I-I don't know anything about that. I'm just a low-level, man. I don't know what goes on up top. I just know that I was supposed to shoot her in the back. Get rid of her, you know? Oh god, you're the guy that killed the others, aren't you? _Please_, man, _please_ don't kill me." Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed his hand once more around the thug's thick throat.

"Don't call me _man_, man," he mocked with a smile. Holding his grip tight, he watched as the thug struggled for breath that would never come. It didn't take long. Soon enough, the man was slack and Alex let go, allowing the body to drop to the ground. Straightening his jacket, Alex stepped back onto the street and continued down the way that Jane had gone, speeding up a little to catch up.


	10. Chapter 10

Rebecca closed her eyes tightly. Pain shot through her left wrist where it was still tied to the bedpost. No matter how hard she tugged, it would never become loose. Despite the fact that she knew she wasn't in trouble, she still didn't like being chained up like this. None of her audible protests meant anything to Eddie. He would just sigh and apologize before looking sadly at her mangled wrist. Every now and then, he would give her pain medication to help but even that was rare due to the fact that it interfered with the other medicine he was giving her.

She couldn't remember much of her life outside of the bare room she was in. A face here and there, a particular smell or taste, a glimpse of a street, a laugh or cry. That was all that remained of her past life. One person in particular always came to mind – an average looking young blonde women with eyes that were too hard and a jawline always too tightly set. _Jane_. That was her name. Apparently, she was so far set into anonymity that she hadn't known her last name until Eddie had told it to her. _Jane Calhoun_.

According to Eddie, Jane wasn't very nice. She had done bad things. Deserved to be punished for those things. That's what happened to bad people, right? They were penalized. Rebecca tried to help Eddie all she could even though she knew very little about the woman. She was surprised that he could remember thing about her but that was probably because she had to speak of her so much. Eddie never asked Rebecca about herself… only about Jane.

He might, she though hopefully, thinking to herself as she pulled on her wrist once more, wincing as the handcuff cut a new slice in her skin. Eddie might would have asked more questions about her if Alex wasn't always around. But he was and he only wanted to know about Jane. Alex scared her a lot, almost as much as Harley. She never saw Harley or Joker much but she didn't have a desire to, either. Even Eddie was wary of the two.

"Rebecca," she heard from behind her. Her shoulders stiffened for a minute second before she realized that it was only Eddie. _He _had never hurt her. Not intentionally, at least. She looked over her shoulder, watching as he sighed. "I told you to be more careful. You need to stop hurting yourself like that." Eddie shook his head and came towards her, rounding the bed.

"I'm sorry," Rebecca apologized. Eddie lowered himself onto his knees in front of her, his cool fingers brushing against her wrist as he examined it. "It really hurts."

Eddie's eyes flickered up to hers for a moment, a hint of sadness in them. "I know it does. That's why you need to stop yanking on it. You'll only hurt yourself more and more. You don't want that, do you? If you keep trying to get free Joker will get angry with you."

"It's not that I want to get free. It's just that being cuffed really hurts my wrist and arm." She squirmed a little, uncomfortable with the idea of earning Joker's wrath for something like that. Why would Eddie think that she would run? She didn't want to have to face everyone that were kept mostly out of her room. "Can't you just let it loose? For a little bit? I won't move from the bed."

He glanced over at her once more, his brown eyes a slight bit wary. There was also a hint of pain in them; a hurt that startled her once she saw it. Why was he so sad? Rebecca really hadn't meant to cause him to feel that way. She felt his fingers brush her hand in a comforting manner. The coolness of his touch felt nice against her torn and bloodied flesh, almost as if he were washing it way from her. Rebecca's eyes turned hopeful as she felt that he would let her free of the bondage – the one thing that kept her from achieving pure relief. All she wanted to do was rest her arm at her side.

She had meant it when she said that she wouldn't move from the bed. Rebecca knew that if Eddie did let her go that it meant that he trusted her wholly. She wouldn't dare do anything to ruin that sacred bond. She trusted him. All she wanted in return was for him to trust her back. Rebecca had figured it out that he was there to help her. He shielded her from the sick mind of others in the house. Though his medication made her sick sometimes… she knew that they were for the best. They helped her forget a past full of pain.

A past that she wanted nothing more than to be relieved from.

Eddie reached into his pocket, withdrawing a small key. The fingers of his left hand clenched around him like he was still debating whether or not he should let her go. She urged him on in her mind. He gave her a stern look, not one that startled her or scared her, but one that showed her that he was placing a lot of his faith in her. "If you break any rules, Rebecca… If you leave this bed, I won't be able to protect you any longer. Do you understand?" He spoke clearly.

She nodded fervently. "Yes."

"Joker, Harley, and Alex won't have you running about here. You _must not leave_ this bed. Otherwise, thing will turn out poorly for the both of us." Eddie watched her very closely and she nodded again. "I want to be able to trust you and this is your chance to show me that I'm not wrong to do so. You must obey what I say or else you will be given to Joker. _Do not_ leave this very bed. Not even if Harley comes in. As long as you stay on the mattress then no one can hurt you."

Rebecca swallowed. Suddenly, she was a little more than frightened at the prospect of finally being set free. The handcuff, while prohibiting her from moving, did secure that she was more than safe. What if Harley came in and pushed her off of the bed, thereby allowing herself to be hurt? What it Alex was angry that Eddie had set her free? Eddie may have trusted her but none of the others in the house did.

However, none of those worries in her head could really overtake the happiness she felt at finally being able to regain full control of her body. She had been hooked up so long to the bed that to be set free… it was simply euphoric to think about. Rebecca would just have to latch herself onto the bed if those doubts ever came out to play in reality. She would have to fight back. Eddie and Alex had both made it clear that the bed meant safety for her. All she had to do was stay connected to it and all would be well.

Rebecca offered him a small smile as she nodded her head for the third time. Eddie stared at her for a minute before finally relenting, the key in his hand finally going to the lock of the shiny cuffs. He unlocked him, the beautiful sound of the lock giving way echoing in Rebecca's mind. A beat later, her hand was in Eddie's, his left one working the cuffs off of her wrist. He was careful to not harm her scars and cuts.

Finally, she was free.

Her wrist felt strange without the cuff wrapped around it. She rotated it, wincing as another welt burst open and pus and blood flowed out. Tears prickled her eyes as she looked down at her hands, the blood dripping onto the fabric of her dirtied jeans. "Here, let me help you with that," Eddie said sadly. When she looked up at him she saw pity, and suddenly she felt ashamed of herself. Here she was, bleeding everywhere and dirty to the core. A deplorable site she was.

"I'm sorry," she choked out. Sobs thickened her throat and she forced herself to look away as Eddie wiped up her wrist tenderly with a rag that was on the dresser. Her unharmed hand reached up to wipe away tears that had leaked out and she sniffed, suddenly wishing that Eddie didn't have to see her like this.

"There's nothing to be sorry about," he waved her apology away. Pausing, he glanced down at her wrist again, now mostly clear of blood. "I think we should wrap this or else you might get an infection. Do you mind if I leave the room for a moment?"

Rebecca wanted nothing more than for him to stay. She appreciated the company. Most of her time spent in the house was by herself – not that she was going to complain. Other than Eddie, she neither liked or trusted anyone else outside of the doors. Harley came to her from time to time to annoy her or laugh at her; Alex only came to ask about Jane; and Joker was only seen in glimpses every now and then. Rebecca knew that there were other, louder men that often occupied the house but she never saw them. She could hear them through the thin walls but that was the extent of her association with them. They probably did not know she was in the house.

Despite her loneliness, she nodded her head to show Eddie she didn't mind him leaving. His hands clutched the cuffs in his hands and for a moment she thought he would put them back on her. In his eyes, she could see him debating it, weighing the pros and cons of leaving her unattached like his logical mind always seemed to do. She held her breath, wondering if her newfound freedom would be taken away before she even had time to take advantage of it.

He surprised her. Instead of slapping them around her wrist again, he laid them on the bedside table. Eddie smoothly rose and walked away from her; Rebecca sighing once she realized that he had not done what she feared. He closed the door firmly behind him, the clicking of the lock just as much of a relief as the undoing of her handcuff lock.

For if she was going to be free, she certainly didn't want any of the monsters outside of the door to take advantage of the fact.

* * *

"Shit!" Jane screeched before she clamped a hand over her mouth. Her eyes squeezed closed and she tried to yank her other arm out of Alfred's grasp. "That fucking hurt." Alfred put the disinfectant down on the table, not saying anything as Jane breathed in sharply though her nose. Her bullet wound was burning, only adding more pain to the throbbing that was occurring due to the stitches Rachel had given her earlier. She wasn't all too pleased with being medically treated so but Alfred hadn't shut up about disinfecting the wound again and re-dressing it. "Why don't you go fix Bruce up or something? I'm sure he's a lot more torn up than I am." She grumbled more to herself than to him as he began wrapping her arm in a nude bandage.

"Master Wayne had to deal with this in the plane ride, I assure you." Alfred stated pointedly. "Now stop being such a baby and watch your mouth! You swear more than a sailor."

Jane grimaced, but said nothing as he wrapped it around and around her muscular arm. Finally, he was finished. She reached behind her to grab the discarded button-down shirt she had on earlier, pulling it on to cover up the bandage. "Do you think I'll be able to go without the bandages in a few days?"

"Not unless you want to risk bleeding all over that beautiful dress Rachel picked out for the party." Alfred smiled at her discomfort then patted her on the head. "You'd hate to do that now, wouldn't you? Poor little Miss Jane, having to be responsible and such. I'm sure it's killing you."

"It is." She mumbled underneath her breath. Alfred handed her a plate of breakfast and her face lit up. Eagerly, her hands grabbed at it, jerking it towards her chest as if she was afraid that he would take it away from her. Her stomach rumbled as she inhaled the aroma of sausage, eggs, and blueberry pancakes. Mouth watering, she turned away from the smiling butler to eat her meal in peace. She hadn't had anything but soup and Ramen since he had left her and was more than eager to chow down the plate of delicious-looking and smelling food as quickly as possible to sate her appetite.

"I see someone is finally happy." He remarked sarcastically. She could hear the gloating in his voice and decided against snapping back at him. He had made her breakfast after all. "Surely you're not that hungry."

"I think I need more cooking lessons." She said in between bites. "Something other than soup." Her cell phone buzzed in her pocket and Jane set the plate down beside her. Still chewing on a piece of sausage, she dug into her pocket and pulled out the device, flipping it open and holding it to her ear as she swallowed. "Jane."

"Remember how you said that we wouldn't be put in jail?" She heard Jim say. Curious as to what he was talking about, Jane scrunched her eyebrows together and waited for him to elaborate. "Yeah, well we were just arrested. You fucking lied to us. I thought this was -"

"Wait a minute, Jim, what are you talking about? What do you mean you were arrested? Did you guys, like, do something?" She asked, sliding down off of the counter and into a standing position on the floor. Alfred gave her a questioning look.

Jim sighed angrily, a short burst of air as if he was more than frustrated with her. "You _lied_ to us – to all of us. You made a promise Jane just like we did. We held up our end and you're supposed to hold up yours. Gordon and a bunch of cops came into Maroni's a few hours ago and cuffed everybody. Including us expect for Sam. But I'm not telling you where she is or else you might get her thrown into jail too."

"Maroni's in jail?"

"Didn't you just hear what I said? Gordon arrested _everyone_. Fucking including Me, Tanya, and Will. You better get us out of here fast or else."

"I didn't know Jim. Normally I would have known but…" she trailed off, still trying to absorb what Jim was saying. So, Rachel and Harvey were able to get the mob on something? After all this time? Damn… "Look, I'll get you out okay? I have connections and I promise that I'll get you out. Just calm down and trust me on this."

"A little heads up would have been nice. That way, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Yeah? Stop being a whiny little bitch Jim-o. I said I'd get you out and I'm going to do that. Where are you?"

"County Central. You better pull through with this. I'm serious."

"What are you going to do about it, Jim?" She asked, more than frustrated herself with how Jim was acting. Did he seriously not trust her? How could everyone else in that group believe what she said while he still held some sort of grudge against her? Hell, she hadn't even done anything to him. Well besides ram him into a wall. But he had asked for that. "Your ass is in jail at the moment while mine isn't. Calm down or else I'll let _you_ sit and wait long enough to get a boyfriend while the others will be enjoying freedom."

Before he could reply with another catty comment, she snapped the phone closed and tossed it onto the counter. "Boyfriend of yours?" Alfred asked. "I remember when my girlfriends used to hang up on me like that."

Jane just gave him a look before flipping her phone open again and speed-dialing Rachel. The first time, she got three rings and a voicemail. Trying again, she paced out of the kitchen and into the living room. Jim's words still stewed over in her head: Maroni was arrested. The whole mob…was off the streets. Gone. In jail. Rachel and Harvey finally did it. They finally got Maroni in prison for good.

"Jane? Listen, I'll have to –"

"Maroni was arrested?" She asked, needing verification and more information on what the fuck was going on in Gotham. Jane knew that Rachel had probably been far too busy to call her before but right now? Rachel was probably the least occupied of she, Harvey, and Gordon. Rachel was Jane's best bet at the moment.

"The whole mob was," Rachel said excitedly. "Harvey figured out a way to tie them all together and we have a shot at putting them all behind bars for good. More so than ever before! Gordon brought them in just this morning and we're trying to put more of the case together – let me tell you, there's a shitload of mob men, if you ignore my French please."

Jane smiled. Maroni really was gone. And not only him – but the others as well. She never thought that they all had it in them but they _won_. They finally fucking _won_. All of Bruce's and their hard work was finally paying off! Jane couldn't remember a time when she had felt so excited about everything. This victory was exactly what she needed after the past few days. She resisted the urge to squeal like a little girl, deciding to go ahead and get the Jim matter handled before anything else. "Listen, Rachel, I need you to do me a huge favor."

"Yeah?"

"I need you to let out three people you arrested earlier today." Jane bit her lip, wondering what Rachel was thinking as the other side of the phone conversation went quite. "They've been working with me for a while now and well… I promised them that they wouldn't get arrested. They're as much of a mob group as I am. Honestly, Rachel, you can trust these three."

"Jane. Do you know what you're asking me to do here?"

"I know, I know, it's crooked and corrupt sounding but honestly, they can help us. If we can figure out a way to get them out without blowing their cover then they can still try to sniff out what's going on in the Narrows. They could probably identify a lot more mob men. They're far more valuable outside of a cell than inside one."

"Are you sure that you can trust them? If I let them out, I can't have them wreaking havoc or trying to rebuild another criminal empire. This is a _lot_ to ask and if anyone ever finds out that we got our hands dirty for this case then everything we've worked for will be destroyed. Do you honestly want to go through with this?"

"I owe it to them. I made them a promise."

Rachel sighed on the other end and Jane imagined her running her fingers through her hair. "I need names."

* * *

After Jane shot Samantha a quick text to tell her she had things taken care of, she bounded up the stairs and into the home gym. Once Bruce had gotten back from Hong Kong, he had been in a tizzy trying to help her move her things from the one penthouse to the other. The one they were in now would be almost impossible to both get into and to shoot at. The windows were far thicker from the outside in the bedrooms and the buildings that surrounded it were too low and at far too odd of an angle to get a good shot in any of the rooms. The floor to ceiling windows were still fairly mandatory and Jane was still a little nervous about getting close to one but had to swallow it down and deal with it.

She burst through the glass doors excitedly, Bruce looking up from his weight bench. "Maroni and the entire mob is in jail. They did it – they really did it!" She practically screamed and laughed at the same time, rushing towards him as he stood to jump in his arms. Wrapping them around his neck, she couldn't stop smiling at the fact that one of the men she hated so much was finally gone.

Maroni, the man that had brought Alex back into her life, the man who had hired Eddie to steal away Rebecca, the man who still probably knew where she was, who had hired men to kill her for the past few months, was finally _gone_. Left to rot away in some prison if things played out as Rachel expected them to. A weight was lifted off of her shoulders and she felt so light and airy that it was comical. Maybe now she could get to the bottom of where Rebecca really was. Everything was slowly coming to an end.

Now that Maroni was gone, she only had Alex to worry about. But that was a thought for another day. Not today. Not with this excitement and this happiness that she needed so desperately finally finding her. Today, she was just going to be optimistic about the future and what it held. Once, she had thought bringing the mob down was an impossibility in itself but that was unfolding before her very eyes. Who was to say that nothing else would work out the same way? Maybe her bad luck was finally coming to an end.

Bruce was obviously trying to get over this excitable version of Jane. She clutched his arms, leaning back to beam at him. "Jim called me while he was in jail to tell me the news. I checked with Rachel and sure enough it's true! She's also getting them out for me. She thinks she can find a way to get them out without alerting anyone else as to what she's doing. Of course, Harvey will have to be told –"

"What? Jane, wait. What about Jim and the others? You're having Rachel get them out of jail?" He interrupted her, asking slowly as if he, too, was in a state of shock.

She nodded. "Of course I am. That's what I promised them and they're far more valuable outside of jail than in it. They've done enough to keep me informed of what Maroni's doing and they've brought our attention to this clown guy. If we're ever going to get him, we're going to need someone he's acquainted with and –"

"Jane." He said sternly and she stopped abruptly. "You're making Rachel get her hands dirty in order to get a few criminals out of a little jail time? Do you have any idea what that sounds like? How corrupt it is? What that could do to her career if it ever came out? Did you think about what this could do to Harvey's case if anyone found out?"

"No one is, Bruce," she said as she stepped away from him, surprised that he seemed so angry at her. "I gave them my word. They're not going to do anything dealing with the underworld without letting us know. They can help us."

"They're criminals, Jane. They've broken the law and deserved to be punished for it."

"And so have I!" Jane couldn't help but yell back. "I did the same damn thing they're doing yet you condemn them while praising me! You used me too, Bruce, don't you remember? Or have you forgotten what happened just a fucking year ago?"

"That's not the same and you know it."

"It's exactly the same! Rachel's only doing the same thing that Gordon did with me. I don't understand why you're so upset about this!"

"Because it could backfire so much more easily than your situation ever could. There's more at stake here than-"

"-my life," she completed for him. "All that Gordon and I risked was my life."

"I'm not saying that what they're doing doesn't deserve some recognition. I understand that and admire them for risking their lives for the greater good just like I admire you for what you did. But letting them go completely free without something is just going to draw attention. If they were to talk or anything then all of this will be ruined. Rachel will be ruined. Dent will be ruined. Gordon will be ruined. _Everything_ will be ruined."

"Funny, you weren't concerned with Gordon was helping me," she said flatly. "And you're also not taking into consideration how your presence is affecting them as well. You don't think that everyone believes what Dent is probably saying right now? That Batman wasn't in on any of this? You're as much of a criminal as we are – as I am and the others. Just because you haven't killed anyone doesn't make it any different. "

"I'm not sabotaging a case here. You and I have worked for making sure that the good guys win. What about these others? These _friends_ of yours? How can you be so sure that they won't turn against you?"

"You know me better than anyone. You know that it's incredibly hard for me to trust anyone. _I trust them_, Bruce. I trust them just as much as I do you and Gordon. I can't explain it or anything. I know that I haven't know them for a long time but when I look at them, I see a younger me. Someone who is willing to do almost anything to turn back the clock and make different decisions. I see that and that automatically makes me trust them. If I can do that, why can't you?"

"You're asking a lot of Rachel here. I just hope that you're willing to accept that this very well could end their careers."

Jane clenched her jaw, tightening it until the point that it hurt. "I don't understand your sense of justice half of the time." Turning around, she walked away from him as quickly as she could. She really didn't understand where Bruce was coming from. Confusion filled her, muddling her mind until she was sure that she was going to just tear apart. Rushing down the steps, she reached the landing and immediately went for the kitchen to grab her phone and wallet. She had a few bucks – enough to get a cab and drive somewhere. Anywhere.

"Jane?" Alfred asked after her. She ignored him. Not feeling the urge to explain what was going on, she left everything to Bruce and grabbed her things before leaving, slamming the door behind her like a child so that Bruce could hear just how pissed off and hurt she was. Jane did have a tendency to sort of overreact when she was pissed off. The emotions clouded her judgment. Still, she didn't really fucking care at the moment. She punched the elevator button, tapping her foot impatiently until it finally dinged.

Thirty minutes later, she was walking into County Central, breezing by the cops with an air of indifference until she reached the back where she figured Rachel would be. She had been here once with Gordon and remembered the layout pretty well simply because it was so basic and cookie-cutter. Once she got to the back, she spotted a brown-haired woman and went over to her, recognizing it as Rachel as she drew nearer.

"Make sure that they are all kept in separate areas," Rachel was saying to one of the cops, a pile of papers in her hand as her one fished around on the desktop for another. "And make sure they each get a phone call! Wouldn't want any of them to start fussing about that. Oh! Jane! What are you doing here?" She looked around then leaned in. "Are you sure that this is safe? I mean, for you?"

Jane waved her away. "It's nothing. I'm fine. Do you need any help with anything?"

Rachel glanced down at the desk. "Um, no, I think we're fine. You know, maybe you should go. I really don't want you to get into any trouble up here with all of these mob men and what not."

Snorting, she resisted the urge to just start laughing. "Rachel, they're in cells. The ones that are after me already know that I'm alive and they can't do anything as long as they're locked up. Honestly, it's nothing. Unless you're nervous about being seen with me…?" Jane didn't really know how the whole legal system worked. She just knew that it was a little fucked up in her opinion. Bruce's words haunted her though, and though she didn't agree with what he had been saying, she didn't want to worsen Rachel's situation. Was being seen with an informant damaging to a prosecutor? They didn't cover that on _Law and Order_.

"What?" Rachel looked confused as if she didn't understand what Jane was asking. "No. No, that's not it at all. I'm just worried about you. But if you think you can take it then… okay. I'm fine. Whatever gave you that idea?" Jane shrugged her shoulders in a lame reply. "Alright well come with me to the back room. Dent's in there and we're going through prior records and what not to fill in everything." She looked down at her filled arms and seemed pleased that she had everything.

Jane followed Rachel down the hall, ignoring the shouts and yells of the multiple men stuck in the cells. Cops were everywhere, filling in the hallways so much that it was difficult for Jane and Rachel to squeeze in between them while avoiding the outstretched and grabbing hands of the inmates. Eventually, the made it to the clear and shuffled into the closet-like space that Dent was occupying. Jane closed the door behind her, firmly shutting out the chatter of the chaos outside. There were windows on either side of the plain, dark room; one housing whom she assumed to be Lao, the other holding, unsurprisingly, Maroni.

"Jane," Harvey acknowledged and she tore her eyes away from the smug-looking man to the charmingly attractive defense attorney. His eyes flicked over to where hers had been just prior to him speaking and he smiled. "Looks good in there, doesn't he? I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for this day."

"You and I both," Jane agreed, turning back to face the mob leader. Even though he was handcuffed to the metal table in front of him, she felt as if he knew something they didn't – that he had something still up those designer sleeves of his. She didn't trust him one bit. No, a man with an expression like that didn't deserve to be trusted one bit. Sure, she detested him with every bone in her body but she still had to admit he was rather keen. He had proven himself to be in the past few months. No matter how many times she assumed and called him a fucking idiot, even she had to admit that somehow, Maroni always seemed to slime his way to the top. And that had to be fucking admired, even if it came with a bad tasted in the mouth.

"Harvey and I are going to work on getting your guys out shortly," Rachel said, breaking Jane's attention from the slime ball in the opposite room. Rachel set the stack of papers at the edge of the table precariously, the rest of the space also having been taken up by files upon files. "It's not the easiest thing in the world, but we'll get them out soon with their covers still intact. No one will even suspect it – not even the guards."

"Thank you two so much for this. I know that it's dangerous for the two of you but I can't stress how good this will work out for us. These three… I swear they won't turn on you or anything. I trust them." Jane wondered if her opinion really held any sway over the attorneys. She wasn't the one with a fancy law degree or anything. Hell, she had barely finished high school. If Jane wasn't friends with Rachel, she was sure that the two of them wouldn't even take her seriously. Rachel certainly hadn't when they first met, when she assumed that Jane was one of Bruce's one night stands.

Harvey, too, might not have taken her seriously either if it were not for her association with Batman. It seemed that he figured that if she was partnered with a man he looked highly upon then she must be okay too. Ironic, considering that was possibly a reason as to why Gordon also had trusted Batman so much in the early days of Bruce's vigilante escapades. Once Gordon had pieced Jane and Bruce together, it seemed that he warmed up a bit more to the idea of a nighttime watcher. A man that could work outside of a broken and slowed system. Bruce hadn't trusted Gordon or Harvey until Jane stated that the two of them were clean. It appeared that everyone trusted everyone based on who they were allied with.

"Well, it can get a little dirty but I hope your right. We are going out on a limb here but I'm sure the payoff will be far worth it." Harvey smiled reassuringly at her. He turned his attention back to his papers in front of him. "Did you get that Wothrman file?" Jane turned out the two lawyers as they shuffled through the stacks. Her eyes naturally wanted to go to Maroni, but she turned instead to Lao to size him up some.

He wasn't an overall impressive sight. Rather ordinary looking with tired eyes and a sweaty forehead. He was skinny, _Accountant_ written all over him if that was possible. She wondered what all he knew, what he was gaining from this whole thing. If Jane knew anything, it was how criminals worked. She had been one, had grown up around them. That knowledge didn't just leave a person once they left the streets. Jane knew that Lao was getting something out of this. His very life was on the line and he would be insanely stupid to not work the situation to his advantage. Without him, Dent and Rachel would have no case whatsoever.

"Ah, damn. The mayor wants to see me," Dent said. Jane turned around to see him pushing his phone back into a clip at his belt. "Do you think you can handle this?" He asked to Rachel who merely gave him a look at which he smiled. "Good, hopefully I won't be gone too long. If you need anything, call me and I'll get back as soon as I can." He was out of the room in an instant, leaving Rachel hunched over in her chair reading through more and more papers.

"How long will all of this get them off the streets?" Jane asked, moving to slide back a chair and sit in it. She glanced at the sheets in front of her but none of it made sense to her. Legal jargon that she didn't really care to know about. Rachel could keep all of that to herself.

"About eighteen months." Rachel replied. Not taking her eyes off of the paper in her hands, she continued, "it's not a whole lot of time, but it's something. Maybe it'll get the Mayor a chance to come out with some new legislation to make this whole process easier on us next time. We'll get to clean out the system and everything with their money supply gone."

Eighteen months? Well, Jane supposed that a year and some-odd months were better than nothing. The jail cells would be certainly full from now until then. Gotham would probably be a little chaotic in trying to figure out where to put them all. "Progress is progress," she remarked and Rachel nodded her head in agreement. She looked to Maroni sitting in the interrogation room. Jane really wondered if he knew where Rebecca was, if she was okay. "Hey Rachel, I know that you're already doing me a huge favor but I have one other thing to ask." The attorney's attention was caught and she looked up a little warily as Jane began to speak.

After Jane asked for Rachel to interrogate Maroni on the whereabouts of Rebecca, she shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry, but I'm not allowed to talk to him at the moment. He's asked for a lawyer and until he gets here, the guy's untouchable. I really wish I could help and I'll be certain to ask once his attorney is present ." Jane sighed. This was another reason why she really hated the system. "Hey," Rachel gave her a sympathetic look, reaching out to touch her arm in consolation. "I really am sorry. I promise you that I'll ask about the girl. But for now, there's nothing I can do."

Jane wanted nothing more than to burst through the door and question Maroni herself. In fact, she wanted to bash his head into the table, wipe that smug look on his face with her fist. If it weren't for Rachel, she probably would have too. Violent thoughts were running through her mind and making her muscles tense in anticipation and – she noted with a little terrified mental gasp – _excitement_. She unclenched her fists a few times, stretching out her fingers before nodding to Rachel. Jane had already asked so much of Rachel. To go through the doors and confront Maroni would be a death sentence on the case against him. While Jane desperately needed to know about Rebecca but she also wanted to see Maroni behind bars. This was their chance. She wasn't going to fuck it up.

She instead watched the news playing in a tiny television set up in the corner while Rachel went to work. Every now and then, she was asked to find a certain document or write down a name. Other than that, Rachel didn't seem to need her help much at all. She would read something then furiously jot something down in her little yellow notepad. Jane tried not to bother her and didn't speak unless Rachel asked her a nonchalant question every now and then about the fundraiser happening that night. Jane had forgotten almost all about it, and blushed slightly with shame once she thought about how awkward it might be once she saw Bruce again. Their little fuss earlier hadn't been the worst they had, but she was still a little hurt and confused over it. Oh well, she'd cross that bridge once she got to it.

Other than the small talk, it was certainly boring in the small room but Jane didn't really know of what else to do. Ride around Gotham? Go for a run? Go to the gym? She didn't really feel like doing anything else and Rachel's company gave her a soothed feeling. After so much excitement, Jane really believed that what she needed was some boredom for a bit. Not too long of course…

Apparently, whoever was in charge upstairs decided that she had went through enough down time. _Breaking News _flashed across the screen of the GCN network before the face of the blonde male anchor began to speak. She couldn't hear his words due to the turned down volume, but she instantly shot up out of her seat once the bottom newsfeed read _Batman Dead?_ With widening eyes, she watched as the reel played a video of a guy dressed in a batsuit being lowered onto the ground form where he had been hanging. Rachel's phone blared but Jane paid it no mind – her horror stricken silence watching as the body was placed onto the ground.

"Oh my god." She whispered, whirling around and running out of the room. She didn't know if it was Bruce or not – the video hadn't been clear. Jane still wanted to make sure though. She had to know. Had to know that it wasn't Bruce that was dead. After their fight this morning… those couldn't have been her last words to him. Not when she was waiting to tell him so much more.

"Jane! Jane!" Rachel called out to her. "It's not the real Batman!" Jane ran into a cop just as Rachel reached her, her hands frantic on her shoulders, turning Jane around to face her. "It's not the real Batman. Harvey confirmed it. It was just a copycat, okay?" She pulled Jane into her arms, wrapping her own tightly around her ribs in a bear hug. "It's okay. It wasn't him."

"What if it had been him? Oh my god." Jane whispered, burying her head into Rachel's shoulder. Her heart was still pounding wildly in her chest. The fear of Bruce being dead still taking a whole of her mind. It took her a few moments until she was completely gone and even then she couldn't help but think: This time, it wasn't Bruce but next time… next time might be different.

* * *

Jane practically ran inside the apartment once she shoved the door open. Her shoes beat against the tiled floor, echoing as she went from the kitchen into the living room where she knew Alfred and Bruce would be. Once she made it there, she skidded to a stop. The squeaking noise her shoes made alerted Bruce and Alfred to her presence and they turned from the television where they were watching Joker's video. Without a word, Jane sprinted towards Bruce, jumping into his arms just like she had earlier that moment, burying her face into the crook of his neck as she hugged him tight.

"I thought you were gone," she said, not letting go of him. Sighing, she felt his arms wrap around her waist as well, hugging him to her so much that she almost couldn't breathe. She didn't care. Bruce was alive and he was right here. He was here and holding her like she was the world. "When I saw the video, I –"

"I know," he said, breaking her off. Jane tried not to cry as she held on to him. She had promised to herself that she wouldn't. Crying over the fact that someone was alive after she knew that he was seemed stupid. Sure, Rachel had told her that he was alive and she had believed her. But seeing him for herself was something wholly different. "About this morning…"

"Don't," she shook her head. Jane leaned away from him to meet his eyes. "Let's just forget about it? It's behind us." Jane pressed her lips against his, feeling nothing but happiness as she did so.

* * *

**A/N: A shorter chapter than normal, but I felt happy with where it stopped. This chapter was supposed to go a whole different direction but I didn't like it and scrapped it. I don't think I've ever been as frustrated with writing as I was trying to churn this out but it's completed and I've never felt more relieved :)**

**Due to the writer's block that I suffered while writing this, I went ahead and made the story cover for _Fractured_, the fourth and final installment of this series. As you can see, that's a very long way away but I was bored and couldn't think of what to go into this one. If you would like to see it, leave a review!**

**(Reviews also help me write so... if you want the next chapter... :) Plus they let me know that I'm not crazy and talking to brick walls.)**

**Stay awesome!**


	11. Chapter 11

Jane rolled away from Bruce with a content sigh, a lazy smile crossing her face as his hand reached towards her to lightly brush away a few strands of her hair that had fallen into her eyes. She was content in this moment. More than content, actually. With the combined effects of a post-coital bliss and the feel of the sun on her face, she determined that she would be perfectly happy with the two of them skipping the party in order to create even more pleasure with each other.

As if Bruce could read her thoughts, he said, "we should just lay here. Let the guests entertain themselves." He placed a gentle kiss on her cheek as his arm reached to wrap around her stomach. He cradled her there and pulled her back into his embrace. Jane giggled rather girlishly, flipping onto her other side so that she could nuzzle her forehead into the curve of his neck.

She inhaled his cologne in deeply. The comforting and familiar smell settled her even more and she felt as if she really could lie here forever. She wanted to. Damn, she wanted to. But Jane knew that she couldn't; Bruce had an image to uphold and she did look forward to getting dolled up once more to go to the party. She would never tell Bruce that, but she actually was a little excited about tonight. She really needed to just drink some wine, relax, and laugh with Rachel after the long and stressful day the two women had had.

"I'm afraid we can't," she shook her head and wiggled in closer, pressing her naked body up against hers as her knee slid in-between the two of his. Bruce didn't agree or disagree but she knew that he agreed with her, if not a little sadly. His reply was simply a tightening of his hand draped down her back, making their bodies become even closer. If there was one thing that Jane enjoyed more than the sex the two had, it was definitely the cuddling. Just knowing that they were sharing body warmth and scents… it sent a tingle down her spine.

She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the falling sun and closed her eyes in a short grimace. She really needed to get up. As much as she loved getting dressed up and pretty, she really did not look forward to getting out of bed in order to get ready. Jane figured that she might as well go ahead and do it – it was like a band aid, she just had to withdraw as fast as she could.

Jane drew her leg from Bruce's and tried to pull herself out of his grasp. He tightened his arms, holding her down. "No," he mumbled, his eyes closed, "stay here just a little bit longer."

"Bruce, I can't exactly go to the party tonight looking like this." She said with a little laugh.

His eyes opened. "Yes you can. I'd like that very much." She glared at him. Bruce smiled, leaning up to press his lips to hers in one of those short but none the less breathtaking kisses of his. He collapsed back on the bed, letting go of Jane so that she could roll away and out of the bed. "Fine. I guess you win this one."

Jane pulled on her tank top and a pair of gym shorts, knowing that she was just going to go down the hall and get out of them in an instant. But still. She didn't want to give Alfred a heart attack at the sight of her unclothed and swathed in nothing but a thin sheet. Everything she needed for the night was in the next room over, out of Bruce's sight and in a place where whoever Alfred hired to help her get ready could fix her up without being in the way. Her arm still hadn't healed completely and getting dressed was a chore, so when Alfred offered to have someone help her, she quickly agreed, knowing that Rachel would be busy getting her own things done.

Behind her, Bruce was rolling over in his bed. He was probably going back to sleep. Damn men. Why was it that it took women so long to look presentable but men could get ready in half an hour at most? Jane shook her head at the thought as she quietly went over to the door, opening it and easing out. She probably could get ready in thirty minutes as well except she would look like absolute fucking shit while Bruce would be magnificent.

* * *

It hadn't taken her as long as she thought. And if it hadn't been for the help, Jane wouldn't have looked damn near as good as she did now.

The dress fit her body like a glove, contorting with what little curves she had and smoothing over the definition of her muscles to give her a more womanly, feminine appearance. The flare at the bottom made it easy to walk – something that Jane was fucking grateful for, for she had still yet to master the art of _high heel walking _– and made her look longer and leaner, if that was possible. The rich purple color of the dress brought out the greyness of her eyes; and the low back was sensual without being obscene.

Her hair had been left natural after she showered, the light waves making for good texture as the woman pinned it all up and out of her face in a loose bun. A few pieces hung around her face for framing, and focused even more attention on the fantastic smoky eye she had managed to pull off. Her lips were peachy as were her cheeks, making her eyes appear darker and more mysterious.

All in all, she looked fucking _good_. If she could say that without seeming like an stuck-up bitch.

Jane thanked the woman earnestly. She couldn't keep the smile off of her face. Tonight, she felt like a new woman. Someone who didn't have a past as dark as night and scars that told far too many horrid stories. Tonight, she was a young, beautiful socialite on the arms of the best man she had even known, a man that she had come to love more than anything she knew.

When she walked out of the room, she went into the foyer, knowing that would be where Bruce and Alfred would wait for her. She clasped her arms behind her back, feeling silly and bashful for no apparent reason due to the broad smile on her face. Jane had felt beautiful all of those months ago at Bruce's birthday party, the night Ra's Al Ghul attacked Gotham, but even that could not match how she felt now.

She entered the room, the echoing of the men's voices stopping as they turned to look at their new visitor. Jane blushed even deeper at the fairy-tale cheesiness of the moment, looking up to see Bruce staring at her with a smile whose size matched even hers.

"Jane, you look fantastic." Alfred was the first to comment, coming towards her with bright eyes and a pleased look on his face.

"Thank you," she replied, dropping her arms down to her sides, "I try sometimes."

Alfred gave her a soft pat on the shoulder. Something caught his eye further down the hall behind her and he excused himself promptly to tend to whatever it was, leaving Jane standing in front of Bruce waiting for some form of reaction. Jane wasn't vain or anything but she wanted something from him. Just because he was smiling all huge and fucking cute and shit didn't matter. She wanted – needed – words from him.

Finally, he came closer to her. Bruce moved slowly but the way his eyes traveled down her body and back up again made her feel the heat of his presence before he was right up in front of her. She took in a breath and soaked in the approval he was so loudly exuding just with those eyes of his. Normally they weren't so expressive but now… they were. Completely unguarded and through them she could see that he was struggling to find the right words for the moment.

"Jane…" He began, mouth moving a little like the words died upon his lips just as soon as he thought of them. She waited, her eyebrows creeping up her forehead while her hands clenched at her sides, trying to resist the urge to reach out and just grab him. "I –" Bruce stopped and then sighed. He gave her a small smile, "I think you look absolutely beautiful."

Jane thought that he was going to say something that was so much more. What it was, she wasn't entirely sure. But she could see him about to say what he was truly thinking – for a moment she nearly had him. She had been so hopeful and had felt her eagerness to know what he had stopped himself from saying drop dramatically once he decided on something a bit safer to go with. She was disappointed but tried not to show it as she returned the smile. "Thank you." He offered her his arm and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the balcony outside of the ballroom, a helicopter waiting to take them around Gotham before bringing them back here in about a half-hour's time.

"Why are we using the copter again?" She said once she was sitting inside. Jane refused to belt herself in, not wanting to wrinkle the dress any. Rachel and Alfred would probably be pissed if she did. Instead, she had her wrist wrapped around the belt in a lame attempt to feel a bit more secure. It was probably stupid but… yeah, flying wasn't something she looked forward to. Especially not in the damn dress.

"It's all about making an entrance," Bruce signaled to the pilot and they took off, Jane's knucles going white as her fingers clenched around the bottom of her seat. The helicopter jostled around a bit – more so than Jane was comfortable with. Bruce noticed her clutching the seat for dear life and laughed, earning a heated glare from her. "Nervous, Jane?"

"Shut up." She growled the sentence, knowing just how much of a second grader she sounded like. But whatever. She was flying in a helicopter that wouldn't stop shaking in a fucking expensive dress just to turn right back around a few minutes later. It was nothing short of ridiculous. But what Bruce wanted, Bruce (usually) got. Instead of mocking her any more, he reached over, his fingers brushing against the top of her hand. He massaged it just a little and she let go. Bruce gently took her hand in his, holding it firmly as if to say '_it's going to be okay_.' Instantly, she relaxed with the contact and before too long, her other hand had blood returning to it once she let go of the other side of the seat.

There must have been something divine upstairs that took pity on her because before long, the helicopter was turning around and landing on the platform. Jane looked out the tiny window and saw the people gaping at the sight of Bruce opening the door. Damn. There were a lot of fucking people in there. Suddenly, Jane was hit with a wave of apprehension. Was it too late to insist on another air-borne tour of Gotham City? She may not have liked flying but she didn't feel all too great about going into that room either.

"Ready?" Bruce asked, looking over his shoulder at Jane. She swallowed thickly and squeezed her hand that was still wrapped in his. If he let go of her hand… shit was going to go down.

He got out first and then helped her, easing her onto the ground like a gentlemen. Once she soothed down the front of her wrinkle-less dress – thank said divinity – he pressed his lips softly against her forehead. "Remember," he said as the wind from the chopper tossed her hair around, "you look beautiful. I'll be with you the entire time."

So he had noticed that she wasn't exactly _stoked_ to go inside with the mob of rich white people. Okay, cool. Jane breathed a sigh of relief and turned to face the ballroom with him, smiling once she saw Rachel's head peeking over the tops of others. "Let's go face the lion's den." She shouted in return, pulling him towards it so that he knew she was ready to go inside. The wind was doing damage to her hair after all.

Alfred opened the door for them as her arm wrapped around Bruce's. The inside of the ballroom was so quiet Jane knew what the statement _you could hear a pen drop_ truly meant. The awkward silence of the Gotham aristocracy was a little unsettling but she tried to ignore the stares she was getting. "I'm sorry that I'm late and I'm glad that you all got started without me," Bruce spoke out as a pathway for the two parted in the crowd.

They slowed to a small stroll and then to a complete stop. He never let go of her. "Now, where is Harvey. Where – _Harvey_." He made a show of looking for the attorney even though he was right in front of him. Jane squeezed his arm and withdrew it once Alfred came up behind her. Bruce stepped forward, sliding into the playboy, airhead persona he portrayed so well. Alfred handed Jane a glass of bubbling champagne which she downed almost immediately.

Bruce made a big speech about how he believed in Harvey Dent and all – something that sounded borderline sarcastic and yet heartfelt at the same time. Rachel was obviously not pleased and Dent just looked uncomfortable. Jane sort of wanted to just go up and smack Bruce for acting the way he was but knew she couldn't. His words did, however, make her wonder how he truly felt about Harvey. Nonetheless, she was relieved when it was over – as were Rachel and Dent – and took his hand once more as he walked back to the balcony without another word. He had a full glass of champagne in his hand though once they reached outside he tossed the liquid off of the balcony.

"You know," Jane began, "you sound like you kind of hate Harvey sometimes." She leaned against the railing, crossing her arms over her chest. "Rachel's going to be pissed with you."

Bruce shook his head. Bracing his hands on the very same railing, he sighed deeply. "Not hate. Just a bit of jealousy if we're being honest here." Jane quirked an eyebrow. Jealous? Billionaire Batman Bruce was jealous of Harvey Dent? "I've come to realize that he can do more for Gotham than I ever could. And he doesn't even have to wear a mask to do it."

Jane watched as the party inside went into full swing again, everyone practically obvious to the brooding man outside. Well, almost oblivious. There were a few stares from some people but they were mostly aimed at her. Probably wondering just who in the hell she was. Who would have known that they had no idea of what the two of them really were. Who they truly were.

"And your point?" Jane asked, turning her head back to Bruce. "Harvey can do a lot for Gotham but you're the one that inspired him to do it. None of what he is doing would be possible if it weren't for you. You're the one who worked with Gordon to get the mob's money. You're the one who wiped out Falcone's empire. You're the one who saved Gotham that night Ra's came into town. You're the one who brought Lao back. That was all you Bruce. Not Harvey."

"Those times are soon going to be gone. Thanks to Harvey, soon Gotham won't need Batman and I don't know whether to be glad for that… or to be disappointed. Our lives are changing and it's because men like Harvey are standing up to take my place. Gotham needs a hero with a face. Not a mask. "

"Life's a cycle. Everything is going to change whether we like it or not. Maybe… Maybe Harvey will be good for Gotham _and_ for you. Who knows what will happen?" She shrugged. "We can only wait and see." She nudged him with her elbow playfully. "I'm sure you won't be ousted completely."

"You throw a party, Wayne, I'll give you that. Thanks again." She snapped her head over to see Harvey and Rachel coming towards them. Bruce turned from the balcony to face them, an easy smile on his face. Damn he was good at that. "We're not interrupting anything, are we?"

"Nope," Jane shook her head and smiled at the two. "I don't know if you can interrupt anything at your own fundraiser, can you? Got tired of circulating the room? Those people must be a dooze to talk to."

"Harvey did perfectly." Rachel gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "Jane do you mind showing Harvey around for a quick minute while I talk with Bruce?"

She shrugged. "Sure." Jane took Bruce's empty glass before giving him a peck on the lips. "Try not to brood too much, please?" She smiled at Dent as she took his arm, "let's go try to avoid talking to those people inside, shall we?" The ballroom now had music playing, some people dancing around in the center just for the heck of it, it appeared. Apparently rich people liked dancing. Figured. They had to show off how many hundred-dollar classes they had been to, right?

"I think I'm going to ask Rachel to marry me." Harvey said. Jane halted in her steps, eyes widening as she whirled to face him.

Blinking, she raised both of her eyebrows in surprise, "well, that was random. Wow. _Wow_. When were you planning on asking her?"

He chuckled. "If I make it out of here alive, tonight, actually."

"Damn. You, my friend, need a drink." Jane stopped the nearest server and traded Bruce's empty glass for two full ones, immediately thrusting one into Harvey's hands. "That's… fantastic though. I'm really happy for you. Honestly." She really was. A deep, girly part of her was thrilled at the prospect of Harvey and Rachel tying the knot. The two of them were obviously happy together and she had wondered if they ever were going to wed. Faintly, she wondered how Bruce was going to take the news.

Harvey beamed at her support and took a sip of the champagne. "I'm glad that you say so. I felt that I needed to get a friend's approval before I asked. Isn't that what you girls do?"

She shrugged. "I have no damn idea."

They were attacked by a group of avid Dent supporters. Soon, he was being toted off by a horde of chatty people. She gave him sympathetic glances but didn't follow as they insisted there were people he needed to meet. Jane was left alone to move through the room. Once again she had to ignore the curious glances and tried to not do anything that would signal she wanted company or a nice talk.

"A pretty woman such as you shouldn't be here alone," a young man said, stepping in front of her to stop her from walking past him. She was jarred a little; surprised that someone actually made a move to talk to her. Just when she thought she was getting good at being invisible. Jane looked up at her new _friend_ ready to sprout out that she was a strong, _independent young woman who didn't need no man_. Or something like that.

Well damn. She was going to say something but the handsome face before her stopped any and all words that tried to make its' way out of her lips. Short blonde hair, pale skin, light blue eyes, and sharp jawline was all that she saw at first, then she saw the charming smile, the crisp black tuxedo and red pocket square. He was pretty, that was for sure. Suddenly, she didn't mind the company.

"May I have this dance?" He asked her, taking her half-empty glass and placing it on a server's tray. The stranger grabbed her now free hand. Leading her to the dance floor without even waiting for her to speak, he kept giving her small smiles. "I saw you earlier and thought you looked absolutely stunning."

"Urm. Thank you…?" Jane was still a little stunned that he was being rather _pushy_. When they reached the dance floor, he twirled her around, sliding one hand at her side to cup the curve of her waist, the other holding her hand firmly as her arm naturally slid up his and to his broad shoulders. "And you are?"

"Floyd. Floyd Lawton. And I have the pleasure of dancing with…?"

"Jane." She winced as her ankle wobbled a little. "Sorry, I'm not sure if this going to be very pleasurable."

"Nonsense. So you're Bruce Wayne's newest catch. I can say that you're by far a favorite of mine. The others looked so… _classless_ to put it bluntly." She smiled a little, not sure whether he was saying she looked classless as well or if he wasn't. "No wonder he has kept you out of the public eye."

"Well that's more or less my doings. I'm not one for photographs and what not. We decided to keep our relationship between us rather than the whole world."

"Good for you. The paparazzi can be absolutely brutal. Though your debut on his arm tonight will certainly cause a great stir in the papers tomorrow."

"Oh, it's not exactly my debut. I was his _date_, I guess for lack of better word, to his birthday party last year. Sorry," she stumbled again. "Dancing really isn't something I do well."

"You're doing fine, Jane." He whisked her around the others that were dancing and Jane caught Bruce's eye. He was chatting with Alfred though his eyes were on she and her dancing partner. Floyd looked over his shoulder to see what she was looking at, smiling once he saw who it was. "Do you think he's jealous that I'm dancing with you and he's not?"

Jane was forced to look away from Bruce and back to her partner once he turned her around again. Wow, this guy certainly was a little… off. "I don't think he would be. It's just a dance. He's just a little protective lately and all."

"Oh that's right. His other apartment was shot up, wasn't it? Yes, I heard about that. Terrible for it to happen and you're so lucky to be alive! I can say, the story of you dodging all of those bullets was so exciting to read about."

"Yes, well…wait." She stopped. Her eyes met his guiltless ones, narrowing a tad. "How did you know about that? The part about me wasn't released to the papers." Jane's arms stiffened as she glared him down. How did he know? Was he… involved in it?

Once he saw the realization in his eyes, they lost all fragments of open innocence, replacing with a sparkle of a smirk as one appeared on his lips as well. "Oops. Didn't mean to let that slip. You're a keen little one, aren't you? Well good. Maybe now I don't have to keep talking like a pretentious asshole. You've caused me a hell of a lot of trouble these past few days. Do you know that I've had a man following me?"

"So it was you? _You're _the one who shot at me?"

"Yep. Might I say, you're fast. You're the only job I've failed and I have to admit I don't know whether to be impressed with you or just pissed off. Maroni wasn't exactly happy with me after I told him you survived. And then with the blonde guy threatening me –"

"Blonde guy?"

"Yes. Blonde, huge, spectacularly muscular and always pissed? Somehow, he found out that I was the one that had been hired to kill you. I barely managed to get away from him but not before he gave me a few bruises. That guy is a _beast_."

"Alex…" So Alex was watching her extremely closely. He must have also known she had been in the apartment when Floyd or whoever had shot it up. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone after him like he had. Was he here? Was he watching her now? Her eyes immediately shifted through the room, searching for the familiar, terrifying face that had been haunting her for so long now.

"That's his name? Nasty man. Absolutely horrible; didn't think that I would actually get away. But don't worry, I'm not here to kill you or finish the job. I was going to but figured that since you survived and all that you're probably meant to stay alive. Plus, our friend Dent here has him locked up in a nice little cell. I just wanted to warn you that you have some very bad people that want you dead; and when I say dead I mean _dead_ dead."

"I need to find Bruce." She pushed away from him, wriggling out of his frame and disappearing into the crowd.

"Don't I at least get a _thank you_?"

Jane pushed through people, getting snide glances and disturbed looks but ignored them as she tried to find Bruce. She stumbled on her dress; falling forward, she thought she was going to completely wipe out when someone caught her, steadying her back on her feet. "Jane, they're coming for him," Bruce said. Without a word as to explain what he was talking about, he yanked her behind him and towards the bedroom. Jane clutched the bottom of her dress and held it up and out of the way as she was forced to follow.

"Who? Who's coming for who?" Jane pressed as they made it into the empty hallway. They took a left and into the spare bedroom where they kept their things. Bruce quickly went over to the dresser, opening it and tossing Jane a hand gun. She caught it. "Who? Dammit Bruce – what the fuck is going on?"

"Joker is coming for Dent." He stormed out past her, forcing her to follow him once more. "Go make sure no one opens that elevator. Tell Alfred to lock it up and don't let anyone know anything is happening. I'm going to find Dent and hide him somewhere. If they do get in, protect Rachel."

She nodded, knowing that now wasn't the time for questions. Jane looked down at the small handgun, hoping that no one would think she was going to shoot up the place as she held it. Thinking that it might not be best to just waltz in with it, she yanked up the skirt of her dress and pushed it into end of her thigh-highs held up by a garter. It wasn't exactly the securest place but when placing next to her inner thigh it was the best she could do.

Jane practically ran into the ballroom. She headed straight for Alfred, once more having to push her way through people. She didn't bother shouting out "_excuse me_", relying on her elbows to get the point across. Naturally Alfred had to be all the way across the room and it took her a bit of time to get there.

"Jane? What the hell do you think you are you doing?" He hissed to her quietly, looking around to wave away the disgusted looks that had followed Jane.

"They're coming for Dent. We have to secure the elevator. Do you know how to stop the damn thing from opening?"

His eyes widened as he nodded. Alfred went off towards the elevator shaft door with more ease and posh than Jane could muster even in a different circumstance. He moved speedily but didn't attract as much attention as Jane had. She watched as he neared it but her mouth dropped a little in horror as it dinged, the doors sliding open just before he got there.

A familiar dirty cop was the first thing she saw. Then, he was pushed to the ground by none other than Joker himself. A huge gun was in his hands and he fired it off as he exited the elevator. The shot gained the attention of everyone in the ballroom, glasses dropping to the floor as women gasped.

"Good evening ladies and gentle_man_. We are tonight's entertainment." His masked thugs filled the area, holding shotguns as they pushed people back a little. Jane was pressed against heavy bodies, grimacing as she tried to fight her way through. It was a hell of a lot harder this time, with the men and guns and all. Jane used her elbows and hands to shove her way through to the front so she could see what was going on. She finally made it and grimaced at the thug who shoved a gun into her stomach before moving on to the person beside her.

"I only have one question." Joker said in between chews of something; he walked around the cleared area, people wincing whenever they seemingly made eye contact with him. "Where is Harvey Dent?" When no one answered, he poked random people with the barrel of his gun and asked the same question: "Do you know where he is?"

Jane's hands itched to grab the gun beneath her skirt but knew that it would be impossible to do anything at the moment. There were more than five of Joker's men and they were all armed. As far as she knew, she was the only one with any kind of weapon. The odds were not in her favor at the moment and she would just have to wait for Bruce to come back. So instead of doing anything, she watched as Joker made his rounds.

"You know, I'll settle for his loved ones." He said to an older man.

"We're not intimidated by thugs." Jane closed her eyes, inhaling sharply at the man's reply. Great. Way to try to piss off the people with the weapons when you had nothing. The man's intentions were good and all but damn. Rich people…

"You know, you remind me of my father. I _hated _my father." Joker grabbed the back of the man's head, pulling him closer as he put a knife up to his lips. Jane immediately bent to yank up the skirt of her dress, hiking it up so that she could grab the gun hidden there. Now was probably the time to do something. Where the hell was Bruce?

"Okay stop." Jane heard Rachel command and she cursed again. Why did these people keep opening their mouths? She finally got the gun and flipped the safety off, holding it out in front of her to aim at Joker. Just one shot.

"Nah, nah, _nah_," a bubbly, child-like voice said behind her. Jane felt a pair of light arms slip around her neck, a cool blade pressing against her throat. "That's not very _nice_." One of the thugs came towards her and yanked the gun out of her hands. Jane was kneed in the back by whatever bitch was behind her. She caught herself on the floor before she hit it completely, bracing her fall. Flipping around, she looked up at a young, small woman with blonde pigtails and black eye makeup. She wore a white, torn blouse and black and red plaid skirt, thick combat boots laced up to mid-calf. Her hands were on her hips and she smiled sinisterly down at Jane. "We _are_ guests after all."

Jane cursed under her breath. Now was the time when she desperately needed a knife or something. Why did things always go wrong when she was wearing a damn dress? Thuggish hands were on her wrists, yanking her up and turning her around so that she was shoved towards Joker. Rachel, too, was being advanced upon though it was obvious Joker's attentions were mainly on Dent's future fiancé.

"Well hello beautiful," Joker said to Rachel, flipping his hair back as Rachel winced. She could try to be brave but Jane could see that the woman was trying to not flip her shit. "You must be Harvey's squeeze. And you are beautiful." He rounded her, looking her up and down as if she were a piece of meat. Jane's eyes flickered over to the thug beside her. He was watching her but any moment now… she just had to wait.

"You look nervous. Is it the scars? You want to know how I got them?" He grabbed her head, much like he had grabbed the older man's and Jane's stomach clenched as he held the knife to Rachel's throat. "I had a wife. Beautiful, like you who tells me I worry too much. Who tells me I outta smile more. Who gambles and gets in deep with the sharks. One day they carve her face. We had no money for surgeries and she couldn't take it. I just want to see her smile again. I just want her to know that I don't care about the scars. So, I stick a razor in my mouth and do this to myself. And you know what? She can't stand the sight of me. She leaves. Now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling."

Rachel kicked his shin and yanked herself away. He burst into laughter. "You have a little fight in you. I like that." Jane saw a flash of black in the corner and smiled. Bruce.

She launched into action just as Batman came in. A hard punch was sent into the thug's face, distracting him as she grabbed his gun. Luckily it wasn't a shot gun, but was more than a little heavier than she was used to. She fired at his shoulder, sending him down without killing him before turning to the chick behind her. The bitch was gone though. Somehow she had slipped away. The people screamed and flew backwards away from the gun, presumably terrified that she was going to shoot them. Jane rolled her eyes and turned to the next guy who was close enough that she whacked him on the side of the head with the butt of the gun.

Jane tried to fire it once more but was met with an empty click. Jammed. Well _fuck_. She whacked the guy with it again before tossing it away. She was just going to have to rely on combat now that her handgun was somewhere far away from her. Fuck. Dammit. Why hadn't she grabbed a knife?

The dress proved more of a hindrance than anything. Having to rely purely on arms, she punched and grabbed and yanked at the thug in front of her. She was able to disarm him but that was it. She couldn't grab at the weapon or anything else. His hands grabbed her wrists, forcing them together as he yanked his head back and head-butted her. Jane fell backwards, falling against someone as her head spun. Looking up, she saw none other than Floyd smirking at her.

"Having fun without me?" He lifted her up and pushed a gun in her hands. "I want that back when you're finished." Floyd yanked out another one from the inside of his jacket pocket and fired at the thug. He didn't aim for safe zones though, shooting to kill.

"Listen – don't kill them! Just shoot their dominant arms and that's it."

"What? Are you serious?" He turned and shot another guy except this time it was in the thigh. "Alright then. Your rules, Captain. Just don't bitch at me when they keep fighting back."

Jane looked back at Bruce and saw him being ambushed by Joker and more of his men. She fired a few shots, taking down four others before the chamber clicked empty again. "Got anything else?" She asked Floyd as his gun, too, went out shooting at a thug who had his gun pointed at Batman.

"Nothing. Didn't exactly pack for a fight."

Jane bent down and picked up one of the thug's discarded weapons. She thrust it into Floyd's hands. "Get the people to the back of the apartment and keep them there where they'll be out of the way."

"Why should I take orders from you?"

"Floyd! Fucking do it or I'll seriously kick your ass for trying to kill me!" She turned to face the people. "Everybody, follow this man and _stay out of the way_." Jane saw that Bruce still had a few men surrounding him and ran towards him. She wouldn't be much help in the damned dress but she would try to do whatever she could.

Jane's hands wrapped around the arm of one of Joker's men. She tugged it down as hard as she could and then back, pulling it out of socket. Screaming, he whirled around to face her as she kneed him in between the legs. Fuck what Bruce had said about it being a cheap shot. It sent the man down regardless and she whirled around to face someone else when she saw that Joker her fucking gun against Rachel's head.

"Ah, you must be Jane. I've heard loads about you." He smiled at her, Jane's eyes filling with confusion. What did he mean? Was… Was Alex working with Joker? She turned around to see if she could recognize his body amongst the others on the floor but found that they were all too small. "Don't worry. You'll see him soon enough."

"Drop the gun." Batman said, stepping in front of Jane as if to shield her.

"Sure," Joker seemed pleased that Batman's attention was finally on him. "You just take off your little mask and show us all who you really are." He shot the window behind him a few times, the glass falling away and the cold air swirling in. Jane stiffened, watching as he yanked Rachel back so that they were both dangerously close to the now open pane. He pushed her so that she was almost out of it, dangling only by Joker's grip on her elbow.

"Let her go."

Joker's eyes squinted and a smile crept across his face. "Very poor choice of words." With a fit of laughter, he let go and Rachel fell out of the window. Jane's hand flew to cover her mouth as Batman raced forward to jump out after her. Jane surged forward to watch the two to see what would happen but hands wrapped around her own, hauling her back. She struggled against them, attempting to wriggle her way out of the grip but whoever was holding her back was too strong. "Told you that you would see him soon."

Jane froze instantly as she realized what Joker was talking about. _Alex_. No.

She was turned around and she felt herself shaking as she looked up to see him. His face was as haunting as it had been in her dreams if not more so. When he saw that she was visibly afraid, he smiled, but shook his head in disappointment. "You need to get a better grip on your emotions, Jane." He let go of one of her arms to punch her in the jaw. Jane's head snapped to the side as pain bloomed on the side of her face. "I know you were not stupid enough to think that I wouldn't come back."

Alex let her go. Jane fell, landing on the tiled floor before she could catch herself appropriately. "No," she shook her head, rolling over onto her knees and palms as she spat out a bit of blood onto the floor. "I knew you'd be back. Just didn't know when you would show your worthless face again."

Jane's head was yanked back, his hand curling to clench her chin tightly; he forced her to look up at him. "I'm the worthless one? Look at you Jane. All dressed up trying to be something that you're not. You'll always be a piece of Narrow trash no matter what you wear. Don't forget that. A new, rich boyfriend won't change that. It just makes you a Narrow trashy whore."

She clenched her jaw tightly. "And you're just a monster."

He guffawed at this. Letting go of her chin, he hauled her up and to him easily. "If I'm a monster, then what does that make you? If I recall correctly, _you_ were the one who was more than willing to help me that night. We're both monsters, Jane. I'm just a better one."

"I'm not like you. Never have been and never will be."

"What makes you any different than me? Like I said, we're from the same place. Did the same things. _Together_. Don't let that pretty boy boyfriend of yours fill your mind with nice and fuzzy things. They don't belong there." A shot rang out and she watched as Alex's eyes widened. He let go of her and whirled around. With his back facing her, Jane saw the bleeding bullet hole in his upper left shoulder. She immediately wheeled backwards away from him, able now to see that the shooter was Floyd. "_You_."

"Yep," Floyd remarked. "Me." He shot again but Alex had anticipated it. Jane saw Joker jumping up and down by the elevator, the blonde smiling beside him.

"As much as I love reunions, we have other appointments to make, Alex. Gordon and his men are on the way and considering that most of ours are _dead_ we need new ones before we fight that battle." The elevator door dinged and he stepped inside, followed by the giggling girl. Where had the little bitch been? Jane wanted nothing more than to punch that girl in the face. "After all, Eddie and Rebecca are waiting."

"Rebecca? You have Rebecca? Where the hell is she? What did you do with her?" Jane ran towards the elevator before Floyd caught her in his arms, hauling her back away from Alex as he shot her a look. "What the fuck did you do to her?"

"Nothing that we're not going to do with you." Alex replied coolly. Jane felt a chill down her back at the thought of Rebecca being in his care and tried to free herself once more from Floyd. He was stronger than he looked though, and she wasn't exactly thinking. Alex smiled at her distress before joining the other two in the cart. "Don't worry, you'll see her soon enough too."

"You fucking bastard! Don't touch her! Don't you dare touch her! I'll fucking kill you! Do you hear me, Alex? I'll fucking kill you!" Jane seethed. She broke free from Floyd's grasp, racing towards the closing elevator doors. She ran up against them just as they closed completely, her fists beating against the doors as she started to cry. "Don't touch her! Don't fucking touch her!" Collapsing, she slid down the metal and onto the floor.

Alex _and_ Joker had Rebecca. Two of the sickest men in Gotham had her friend, and it was all her fault.

* * *

Jane watched with numbed eyes as the last of the party's attendees were ushered out. Dent and Rachel had long since been gone after they fished him out of the closet. Bruce had changed back into his dress clothes and was still trying to calm people down. Gordon and Floyd were sitting beside her. She didn't know why she felt okay with someone who had tried to kill her near her, but she did. He had probably just saved her life. Later she have to talk to him to see what he knew about Alex. Now that she knew Joker _and_ Alex had Rebecca she was scared shitless for the girl. She knew just how sick Alex could be.

She pulled Floyd's dress coat tighter around her shoulders. Her dress was ripped in several places rather indecently and she couldn't work up the nerve to get changed just yet. She didn't want to go anywhere without Bruce. "He's rather good at that," Gordon commented and she looked over at him. "Calming people down, that is."

"I wouldn't say he was good at it. Those people have been here for half an hour. If he was good, they'd be long gone by now and we'd have the booze all to ourselves." Floyd took a gulp from the bottle of champagne in his hands.

Jane saw that they were finally leaving and stood, walking towards Bruce; she had taken off her heels a while ago and the tile was cold against her feet. She was cold all over. Chilled, as if she were stuck in a freezer. Bruce turned from the couple to her, immediately opening his arms so that she could fall into them at last. She wrapped hers around his neck, holding onto him, burying her face into his neck as she tried to stop from crying once more. "What do we do now?"

Bruce hugged her tightly. "We fight back."

* * *

"Well, look who's here. I'm surprised you even bothered to show your face after you left us sitting in a cell for –"

"Save it Jim." Jane snapped, storming through the apartment, Floyd following behind her. He whistled at the remark and coughed to cover up a laugh.

"Who the hell are you?"

"A friend." Floyd called back before continuing to follow Jane down the hall. "Damn, you sure know how to treat your little buddies. Why am I here again?" Jane ignored him as she entered the living room where the others were. Will, Tanya, and Samantha looked up in surprise from where they sat watching television. "Is this a surprise party for me? Oh Jane, you shouldn't have."

"Can it Floyd," Jane hissed. She marched her way around and cut off the sitcom before turning to face the small group with her arms crossed over her chest. "I need you four for another job. Last time, we didn't get much work done and this time I'm calling you in for something that will work you more. You in?"

"What do you take us for? Idiots? You _left us in the jail cell_; after you promised that we wouldn't get arrested. And now you're asking for our help again? Who do you think you are? And who the hell is this guy? Just letting strangers into our place I see." Jim ranted again.

"Will you shut up Jim?" Tanya spun her head to face him. "You were not the only person sitting in a cell so stop acting like you were. We're out, aren't we? Seems to me like we are so shut up about it And if he's with Jane, I'm sure he's okay. She's not totally stupid." She faced Jane again, working her jaw as if she was trying to calm down. "Now, what's going on?"

"A very close friend of mine was kidnapped by someone from my past and I need to get her back as quickly as I can. He's working with Joker so if we can find him, we find this lunatic who keeps causing Gotham problems. I know it's a lot to ask but… I really need your help in this; more so than before. Her life is at stake and I'm going after her as best as I can with or without you guys. But I would feel better if you did join me."

"This friend from the past of yours, is he dangerous?" Will asked.

"Very; and he hates me more than anything right now."

"Well I don't see what we're waiting for. What else are we going to do?" Will shrugged and looked over at Tanya. "You in?"

"You're serious about this? Guys, this could kill us. We don't know anything about these men or about this friend of hers. What if she just forgets about us like last time? We've helped her out enough."

"We didn't do shit, Jim." Sam replied hotly as she shook her head. "We didn't do anything at all. Come on, Jane really needs our help in this. You were just talking about how you wanted to get your hands on Joker – well now's your chance. Like Jane said: if we find her friends then we find him." Jim shot a look of betrayal at his sister and shook his head, huffing in a pitiful way. He lost. He knew it. Jane may not have thought much of the man but she knew that he wouldn't let his sister do anything dangerous without him being there to protect her. That was _something_ she could admire in him.

"So I guess that's it," Tanya said. "Looks like we're in. When do we start tracking him down?"

"Sooner rather than later. Name's Floyd by the way. I'm the guy who shot up her apartment a few days ago. Lucky bitch managed to survive though I don't exactly see how. After I did that, a blonde muscle-man managed to corner me in an alley about two nights ago and tried to kill me for trying to kill Jane. Said that she was _his_ and no one else's." He looked at Jane. "You sure know how to pick them. Anyway, I think he used to work for Maroni or something –"

"Falcone," Jane corrected.

"Yeah, right. That guy and I was hired by Maroni to take Jane down. Now, Falcone and Maroni, while having their faults, were pretty damn organized in keeping tabs on everyone. Maroni said something about having files on anyone who ever worked for him. He seems to keep up with them no matter what. So I was thinking that maybe we could find where he keeps those files and see if Alex had any residences before he got kicked out of Gotham. Kind of a shaky place to start, but it's a start."

"Well I know that Maroni didn't keep them at the restaurant. I would have found them if he did." Tanya said. "So if he still has the files, the first place to look would probably be his house. Shouldn't be too hard to break into now that the most of the mob is in jail."

"That's where we'll start then." Jane smiled, suddenly feeling a bit hopeful. She knew that the chances of gaining any ground on Alex were slim if they did it this way but she had a feeling she wouldn't see him for a while. With everyone's help this wouldn't be so bad. She was finally starting to get a thumb on Rebecca's whereabouts. "We'll go tonight."


	12. Chapter 12

"You can't compare Garth Brooks to Hank Williams Junior! That's not even right!" Jane threw her hands up in exasperation, carefully trying to avoid hitting the man coming their way as she and Floyd walked back to Bruce's apartment. They could have driven; Floyd had a car and he, apparently, could drive unlike her. But it was such a pretty day, she thought sarcastically, looking up momentarily at the grey clouds and slight drizzle that was making her hair all frizzy and nice. She turned back to Floyd who was gaping at her as if she had said something that simply shouldn't have been said.

"And why not?" He finally said. "They both are country singers who hit their prime in the nineties. They both sound kind of the same –" Jane's eyes narrowed instantly at the lame excuse of comparing the two men just because they were both _"country singers._"

"To someone like you. Don't get me wrong, Williams has some pretty good songs and is a legend in his own right, but Brooks? He is the most commercially successful country music singer ever! Don't you dare mention Taylor Swift either," she shot him down with a glare, "she is full blown pop and you know it." What had even brought about this strange conversation in the first place, anyway?

Floyd sighed; rolling his eyes, he stepped around an older lady and shoved his hands deep inside his waterproof jacket. "Who even listens to pure country music nowadays anyway? That stuff is so… boring and dull."

Oh _no_ he didn't just go there. Clearly, Floyd was begging for death. Surely he knew to never say that one's music taste was _boring and dull_. Was he honestly so stupid? Jane felt a flash of intuitive anger and feeling the need to protect what she thought was amazing, reached between them and gave him a strong punch in the arm. He jumped away, clutching onto where she had hit him and gave her a hurt look. "If you value your life, you will remember to _never_ insult country music around me. Ever. "

"All right! All right! Jeeze. Sorry, I guess." Floyd rubbed at his arm. "That really fucking hurt, you know?" Jane grinned at his pain and reached behind her head, flipping up her hood and covering her own hair. She really didn't have the mood for weather like this. But what did she expect? It was fucking Gotham after all. It wasn't a place exactly known for its' weather. Dropping her hands back down by her side, she kept walking through the small puddles, Floyd keeping a decent amount of distance between the two in fear that she would reach over and smack him again.

In the past few hours since the whole Joker episode at Bruce's party, Floyd had taken to sticking around. Citing curiosity and the fact that _"danger seems to follow you around_,_" _he had only left for a short while hat morning to change out of his clothes and take a quick nap. Jane didn't mind, honestly. She hadn't told Bruce that Floyd was the guy that had tried to kill her, seeing as how the news might lead to Floyd being discovered in a dumpster or something.

She still tried to keep that fact in her mind but it was still relatively hard. If he wanted to kill her, he could have done so earlier. There were ample opportunities to put a bullet through her brain in the few hours they had been together. That, and he seemed to want to truly help her. Floyd was the one who had volunteered the information about Maroni keeping files. She remembered that Falcone had kept files on everyone, so why wouldn't Maroni? Honestly though, until Floyd had mentioned it she had nearly forgotten about it. Alex's information might still not be there. Then again, she hoped that it was and still held on to the hope that it would be. It was all they had when it came to finding Alex and Joker.

And as Tanya had pointed out earlier: if Alex had come back to Gotham at the beckoning of Maroni then he had to find that information somewhere. Maroni wouldn't have kept tabs on Alex, would he? Sure, he was an enemy of Falcone but Jane just didn't think that Maroni was that type. Then again, she had the problem of dumbing people down only to be super surprised at them later. There was also the problem of Bruce's mistrustful feelings towards Floyd.

Sure, Jane figured that he could be spying on her for Maroni as Bruce had pointed out to her earlier that morning when Floyd had left them alone. Jane had replied that she wasn't stupid - she would still keep an eye on him. But there was something about him that inexplicably made her trust him. Jane couldn't explain it if she tried, but she just _did_. Maybe it was the fact that they had the same eyes and hair tone, that they looked similar in appearance or it was that his attitude was so damn entertaining and she couldn't bear to kick him out. Don't get her wrong, Jane loved Bruce, but sometimes she needed someone to crack a joke every now and then, and that had appeared to come in the form of Floyd.

"Hey Jane," Floyd said, bending down to grasp a discarded newspaper. It was wet; some of the print blobbing from the drizzle but a few words and the picture splashed on the front was still visible. Curious as to what he was pointing out, she stepped closer. Floyd snapped the newspaper open so that she could see the picture more clearly, and a shocked expression came on her face once she realized that the woman dressed in purple holding a gun was _her_. "You're fucking famous. Look at that. _Wayne's New Girl a Hero_."

Jane snatched the newspaper out of his hands. She flicked it open, squinting her eyes to make out what had been destroyed by the rain. "_Billionaire Bruce Wayne was seen escorting a mysterious blonde woman to Harvey Dent's campaign fundraiser last night. Sources do not know the identity of the woman but state that when the Joker and his men crashed the party, she and another mysterious man fought back against the henchmen with guns and their own fists." _

"Hey that's me! Why don't I get a picture? I'm the one that brought the damn guns. _Journalists _in this town." He scoffed.

"_Wayne was nowhere to be found at the time of the incident. However, Batman was able to apprehend the Joker momentarily until Rachel Dawes was thrown out of a window, leading the vigilante to save the Assistant Defense Attorney – and Harvey Dent's leading lady - instead. Joker and his men were able to escape the penthouse and elude the police. No casualties have been reported. If anyone has information on the Joker's whereabouts, please come forward."_

"Is that all? My, journalism has somewhat declined, wouldn't you say so yourself?" Floyd plucked the newspaper away from her, scanning down the front page himself. "Oh, wait, look here. They're offering a free month's worth of newspapers to whomever can identify you." He snorted. "What kind of reward is that?"

Jane rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to ignore the fact that not only was her fucking picture in the paper but that they were seeking out her identity as well. Maybe it wasn't so bad… Honestly, who knew her anyway? Criminals. Drug Dealers. Enemies from working with Falcone all those years ago. Cops. Fantastic.

"Honestly, I don't understand why you're so upset," Floyd folded the paper up and tucked it under his arm. "At least they didn't say that you were _rescued_ or anything. Though, if we're being honest, I did sort of rescue you when I shot your ex-boyfriend; I hope that you haven't forgotten because I have a feeling that he certainly won't."

"He's _not_ my ex-boyfriend," she growled at him for what felt like the hundredth time. Turning, she started walking towards Bruce's new apartment with Floyd rushing to catch up with her.

"Oh really? Then what exactly is he? Please explain because I'm quite confused about the whole situation. Ex-husband, perhaps? Wait, I know what it is: he's angry because he's tired of sending alimony checks to you, right?"

"What? No. No, that's definitely not it. It's… Well it's complicated." Jane was still debating as to whether or not to tell Floyd about her rather illustrious past with the man that had tried to kill them both – albeit, several times. Bruce was rather against it, but Jane knew that Floyd was rather suspicious over it anyways. Sooner or later he would blatantly come right ask her about it. Maybe she could leave out a few details… details that not even Bruce knew… Shaking her head to clear it, she took in a deep breath, deciding that perhaps now was not the best time to think about that. She would just handle the situation when it came about.

"Life's complicated." Jane shot him a curious look. "I was going for being really deep there. You know, to sound really smart and shit." She rolled her eyes but couldn't stop the tiniest of smiles that graced her lips.

A short while later, they finally reached the apartment. With his newspaper still between his arm and his side, Floyd trailed after her as she walked through the huge door and into the penthouse, heading straight for the gym where she figured Bruce would be. It was past noon so he probably was not in bed still and she didn't remember him saying that he had a meeting or anything to do today. Especially not after the events of last night. Sure enough, when she opened the glass doors she saw him doing bench presses in the back.

He stopped when he heard them come in. Putting the bar back on the holders, he sat up, sweat drenching his naked chest and face. Bruce wiped his forehead with a towel, smiling at Jane as he stood. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to," he said, giving her a small kiss before shooting a glare at Floyd behind her who was playing with the zipper of his jacket.

"We went to go see Tanya and the others. They backed what Floyd had said about Maroni keeping files. It's not much of a start but it's better than nothing if we ever hope to catch up to Alex and Joker." Catching herself, Jane turned to Floyd. "Do you mind giving us a minute?"

He gave her a weirded-out look. "You're not going to have sex with me standing right outside the door, are you? Because I'm not sure if I want to hear that…"

One of Bruce's arms snaked around Jane's waist protectively. "Maybe we are," he said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Jane looked up at him rather curiously but he didn't return the gaze, his eyes focused on nothing but Floyd. "There's a kitchen down the hall. Feel free to make yourself comfortable. If you need anything, Alfred will be able to help you."

"Sweet." Floyd quickly turned; and practically ran out of the room at both the prospect of food and Bruce's sharp glare. "Don't get pregnant!"

Speaking of pregnant, Jane needed to set up an appointment with her woman doctor to make sure her implant was still in and working properly. A child was seriously the last thing she needed right now. "Sorry, I forgot that he was even around. But we're going out to Maroni's tonight to get in. His girlfriend or whatever is throwing a party so it will be easier for us to sneak in and out with the security system off."

"She's throwing a party while he's in jail?"

Jane shrugged. "They're strange people. Were you able to find out anything today about our new _friend_?"

"No. His face was too thickly covered in makeup for us to get a positive match in the database and he wore gloves the entire time. Alfred believes the man doesn't have any motive and I'm starting to think that he may be right; but we also know from your friends that Maroni hired him to kill Batman so it's also difficult to rule out money or power being his reason at all of this."

She turned into him a little, pressing her chest against his as she wound her arms up and around his neck. "I'm sure we will figure it out eventually. Alfred could be right, though. But if he doesn't want money or power or anything like that, what could he want? Why go through all of this trouble for nothing?"

Bruce shrugged but tightened his grip that ran across her back, pulling her closer to his lower body. "I don't know. If Alfred's right though… we could be dealing with someone that's not only insane, but also more dangerous than anyone else I've encountered. If he really isn't doing any of this for that he literally has nothing to lose. That's more unsettling than anything I could think of."

"Because not only is there anything that will appease him, but there's also nothing to hold him back," she nodded, understanding where Bruce's train of thought was going. "But, we also have to keep in mind that he was robbing banks… maybe he really does want money."

"Yes, but at closer inspection, he was only robbing _mob _banks. All of the others were left untouched." Bruce pointed out and Jane's eyebrows lifted in shock. She hadn't really thought about that. Jane had written him off as another bank robber but… this news was a little… unsettling. If he was only robbing mob banks –

"He was just trying to attract their attention." She spoke aloud. "There is no other way to catch the mob's eye rather than steal directly from their pocketbook. He stole from all of them too, letting them know that none of them were safe. It's a dangerous game he's playing." She paused. "But if the robberies were only to get the mob's attention, what made him jump from that to suddenly working for them?"

"To kill Batman. Or, to at least make him stand up and take off the mask. That's why he sent in the videotape to the news – so that everyone will turn against the Batman. He wants to destroy that."

"It's just… none of this is making much sense to me." She rubbed her hand across her forehead and sighed. "All of this _mess_ is going to make me an old woman fast. If I don't die of a heart attack first. This…clown – Joker – I think we may have underestimated him more than we could ever imagine. Think about it: the guy was robbing mob banks just for kicks, practically. Now, he's after Harvey's and your head. Not to mention that he's working with Alex and possibly Eddie, too."

"We'll get him. We handled Ra's Al Ghul. I think this Joker guy is going to be a walk in the park once we figure out where he's hiding." Bruce brushed her hair from her face. "Trust me. We'll bring them all down and get Rebecca back."

"What if we don't? This guy… I don't know. Sam warned me about him at the very beginning and I should have paid more attention! We could already have tracked him down, got Alex, and rescued Rebecca by now if we had only started sooner. He's gained ground now. People are actually starting to listen and fear him."

Bruce silenced her with a kiss and Jane could feel the tension releasing as his hands tightened across her back where before they had been merely draped. She was brought in closer to him as she was earlier, pressed up against his body as his lips molded against hers, soothing her with his taste and the softness of his touch. Her shoulders instantly relaxed. Her hands went to wind around his neck. Her fingers curled into his hair. Her eyes slid closed as she was lost in him, the world slipping away into blackness until it was just the two of them once more.

Problems forgotten, she registered nothing but he feel of his hands moving to grip her hips. Bruce lifted her up and she easily wrapped her legs around his waist, tightening them as he moved to catch her thighs. Jane breathed in sharply as she broke away for air, his lips attacking the curve of her jawline as hers pressed against the side of his cheek.

"You worry too much sometimes," Bruce chuckled against her ear as he pressed her up against a wall. The position was similar to the one they had found themselves in almost a year ago when they had first had sex together. Memories of the night rushed to her and inflamed her completely, and now Jane was more than eager to replay those events in real life once more. He had been the perfect mix of roughness and tenderness; she had been fulfilled beyond her dreams. That night certainly hadn't been their last night together but still, somehow that first time stood out to her as one of the best experiences she had shared with Bruce.

In retaliation to his comment, she squeezed her thighs around him tighter. She couldn't exactly cut off his air supply but the motions had to be increasingly uncomfortable. Bruce growled an animalistic sound that excited her even more. The fire in the lower pit of her belly burned increasingly brighter and she slacked her legs and pulled him in closer to her with her ankles pressed against his thighs. "You don't worry enough sometimes," she replied and nipped at his cheekbone with her teeth.

Jane forced their lips to meet once more. She sucked his bottom lip between her teeth, playing with him as he squeezed the flesh that was exposed by her t-shirt that had ridden up. He held on to her tightly – tight enough that she almost wanted to tell him to let go. Almost. He hauled her away from the wall and Jane found her back meeting the floor of the wrestling mat a few moments later. Bruce pulled away for a moment to work on the button of her jeans; Jane leaned up on her elbow to pull her shirt off and throw it away.

"Are we going to wrestle?" She asked, watching with an amused expression as he struggled to slide her jeans off of her legs. Helping him, she lifted her hips and kicked them free.

"I was thinking of a different sort of wrestling," he said. Crashing his lips to hers once more, he pushed her back down onto the mat and trapped her there with his body, barely supporting his own weight on the hands that were slammed down by her head. Jane parted her legs underneath him, eager to feel him pressed up against her in the most intimate way possible. Whimpering a little in her throat when he flexed himself so that he was pressed wholly at her clothed lower half, Jane once more lifted her legs to wrap around his hips to pull him even closer to her.

Both of them groaned at the pressure. Jane, feeling more than eager to have him inside of her at once, reached her hand down and shimmied his pants off of his hips enough so that he could position his length against her, and ultimately, inside of her. He finally pushed into her and her jaw dropped as her back arched off of the mat. Bruce's face buried in the side of her neck, she squeezed down on him. Her nails dug into his back, her heels pushing him deeper inside of her just before he withdrew only to join her once more. She pushed her hips upward to meet his and the sound of slapping flesh and barely controlled grunts filled the gym.

Great. She'd never be able to exercise in this room without feeling somewhat aroused again.

He moved his head to press his lips to her neck, his tongue roaming over the skin there in circles as he began to kiss the thin skin. Her body tingled and she kissed his own shoulder as she squeezed her arms that were wrapped around him to pull him closer to her. Jane threw her head back as far as it would go when he changed positions, going even deeper inside of her so that she could barely contain the loud moans and whimpers that came from deep within her throat.

Jane felt that release building inside of her with an increased frenzy, her body starved of what she needed from Bruce desperately. She rolled her hips against his, her teeth nipping at his shoulder as Jane tried to control the sounds that escaped her lips. She didn't want to let everyone else in the house know what she and Bruce were doing.

As with most times, Jane reached her climax first. Her whole body tensed before slacking against the mat, limp as her heart raced on. Buzzing, she was almost shivering against him as she held on to his shoulders, pulling him closer to her to hold her down to earth as he reached his own release inside of her. When he was finished, he collapsed on top of her briefly before rolling away, Jane curling in on her side towards him so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. His arms curled around her, pulling her in to his side as she tried to fight off the drowsiness that always seemed to come after sex with Bruce.

This. Right here. Lying next to him was even more fulfilling than sex. Rough, gentle – it didn't matter. Sex to her, while appetizing and wonderful in her own right simply didn't hold a candle to lying beside him and just… _being_. There was something tender and beautiful and wonderful when the two of them were like this in her opinion. A little moment in time where everything was erased and she felt no pressure to be anything but his. No pressure to do anything that she didn't want to do; no pressure to have to find answers to every little thing. There was just Jane and Bruce. Nothing else.

Little things like lying in his arms all curled up was what really made their relationship. Jane knew that they rarely got to see each other so times like this were sacred to her. These relaxing periods of time where the weight of the world was lifted off of her shoulders and she could just spend time in his presence. Moments like these only solidified her belief that she loved Bruce more than anything in the world in her own special way.

"Jane," Bruce interrupted her thoughts. She looked up at him, a little awkwardly because of her head's position on his chest but she managed. "I know this is a really weird time to say this but I've been thinking about it a lot lately."

"What is it?" She asked. Jane propped herself up on his chest so that she could get a better look at him. His thumb on her arm made little tiny circular motions, soothing the skin as he thought for a second, possibly mulling over the thought of whether or not to tell her whatever it was that he was thinking about. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise I won't laugh or punch you in the face."

The corners of his mouth quirked up a little at that and he looked her fully in the eyes. "Jane. I love you."

Wait. What?

Jane shot up, standing quickly before she even had time to understand what she was doing. Bruce – he loved her? Was he sure? Did he understand what that meant? Better than she did, at least? What did that mean? he didn't want to get married, did he? Oh, Jane simply could _not_ get married right now or ever. Sure, she loved Bruce and all but marriage? She wasn't really marriage material. Was she?

What the _fuck_? Why was he saying this now? What was going on? Why was she freaking out so much? She loved him, didn't she? Yes, yes, Jane knew she loved Bruce. Had known for quite some time now. But she was just going to keep it a secret. At least, until all of this blew over maybe. Reserve that whole conversation for later down the road if they were still together.

Bruce hadn't said anything, but he stood and began pulling on his clothes, silent as she had a mental breakdown right in front of him. She was practically naked and hadn't realized it until now. Turning away, she quickly pulled on her jeans and her shirt, avoiding eye contact with him just as much as he was with her. Was he sure? Did he really love her? Jane was torn – not knowing whether to be happy or not that he had professed his feelings.

On one hand, it was really _really_ nice knowing that this whole relationship sort of thing they had going on wasn't just one sided on her part. Instead, it seemed that Bruce more than just _really cared _about her. He freaking_ loved her_. Just like she freaking loved him. Wow. This-this was a lot to handle.

On the other hand, this was also really bad. Or it could be. Loving her would only prove to hurt him in the end, she knew. Men didn't exactly have the best luck when it came to her. Most of them either hated her or died. Plus, he had the whole Batman thing going on to. Like always, Jane knew that she didn't want to distract him from that at all. It was his life.

"Jane, I'm sorry if I made you, um, uncomfortable. I didn't mean to say that."

Fury and confusion surged through her. Sure, she didn't know exactly how she felt towards him, but was he taking back what he said by pushing her back into a further space? What was he getting at, exactly? Crossing her arms over her chest, she shot her body around to face him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He gaped at her. "I just meant that I didn't mean to say it. It sort of slipped out."

Why was she getting so mad about this? Just a few minutes ago she had been wondering why he had chosen now to say it. And now that he had said he wished he hadn't, she was furious. Why was she going through such a high-low now of all times? She had to calm down before she said something that would just lead to more and more confusion. "So, are you saying that," she swallowed, looking down at the ground because she couldn't meet his eyes, "you regret saying it?"

When she allowed a brief glance upwards to his face she saw realization dawn in his eyes. Before she knew it, he stepped closer to her, his hand under her chin as he tipped it upwards so that she was now forced to meet his gaze fully. "No," he breathed out and shook his head slightly. "I only meant that I regretted not waiting until a better time to say it. I didn't want you to think that I was just saying it just to say it. I meant every word. While I do regret my timing, I don't regret letting you know."

So he really meant it. Bruce really did love her. Her worrying…like all things, it would just have to wait.

Her lips broke out into a smile so big that she was surprised it didn't split her face in half. "Good," she said. "Because I love you too and I'd be pissed the fuck off if you took back what you said."

* * *

Jane pulled her hood off of her head as she stepped into Bruce's penthouse apartment. Her hair was frizzed and tangled due to the weather, but she paid it little mind as she blew a few pieces out of her face, not really feeling the energy to pick her hand up and brush the stray hairs back. Flicking on the light, she stepped on broken glass that still hadn't been cleaned up as she went towards the living room. The sky was extremely dark now and the floors and furniture were wet from the now permanently open windows. Everything was ruined in the apartment, nothing seemingly salvageable except what was in the bedrooms.

Sadly, she sighed. Jane really had liked the apartment and felt a little nostalgic that they were moving from it. She also felt for Bruce. Not only had Wayne Manor been burned to the ground a little over a year ago, but now this. His fancy apartment with the million dollar views was all but demolished.

Even though she was supposed to meet Floyd and the others at Sam's place in a few minutes, Jane had realized when she was getting dressed that she didn't have the suit Bruce and Fox has made especially for her. Her mood was still soaring due to her and Bruce acting extremely sickeningly cute all day after the _I love you's _so she had simply hopped into a cab and rode her happy ass down here. Besides, she had wanted to see the place anyway. When they had moved to the new apartment they had left behind a few other things that they were planning to pick up eventually. Things like her outfit.

She pulled off her jacket and tossed it onto the drenched couch. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked around the dimly lit living room and kitchen. Even though this particular apartment was at the top of the building and in a prime location, she knew that Bruce had kept the decorations and feeling of it very minimal. It felt… normal. Not ritzy or extreme at all. The penthouse was very livable and homely feeling despite the fact that it probably cost more money than she had ever seen in her life. Yes, Jane decided, she certainly would miss this place. Especially the large bathtub that she and Bruce had become very… acquainted with.

Blushing at the more than slightly risqué memories, Jane turned and went to the bedroom, carefully sidestepping puddles so that she wouldn't slip. The attack had been a week ago and Bruce still hadn't had the place cleaned or fixed yet. A lot of the old furniture was even still here, waiting and making the place seem like a creepy crime scene from a cliché movie.

Jane went into the bedroom that was still decorated. Like a lot of the other things in the penthouse, she also missed that bed…and the bathtub, of course. Moving to the closet, she stretched out her right arm and grasped a hold of her bag, pulling it off of the top shelf. It slipped out of her wet grip and landed at her feet. "Damn it," she muttered, bending down to grab it once more albeit a little more firmly. Jane stood back up straight.

When she did, she couldn't help but notice that something – more specifically, someone – was behind her.

Her heart skipped a beat for a moment, knowing that the person had probably been in the apartment the entire time waiting for her to get back. Bruce? Probably. No one else could have been that quiet. Smiling and letting the anxiety of the presence wash away, she chuckled. "Bruce. I thought you were going to go catch up on some things. Who do you think you are, coming up to me like that?" She moved to turn around and face him, ready to reprimand him for sneaking up on her so like that.

"Well, I'm certainly not Bruce," a man's voice chuckled behind her. Jane's smile froze on her lips as the cock of a gun resonated just behind her head, the barrel pressing at her skull and forcing her to bend it a little so that it tilted downwards slightly. "I'm sorry that I'm not who you were expecting."

Jane held onto the bag a little more tightly. "Yeah. Me too." Jerking her arm around her, she twisted and bent as the empty and light suitcase hit his arm. His finger pulled the trigger reflexively but the shot went to the wooden shelves behind her. Her arm had made a complete arc and she quickly threw it back towards the man again. Aiming a little higher, the buckles slapped his cheek and his head snapped to the side. Jane tried to move as quickly as possible as she grabbed onto the two shelves on either side of her, picking herself up so that she could slam both of her feet into the man's pelvis, effectively pushing him back and away from her.

Her wounded shoulder throbbed a little but the sight of the man crashing away from her and into the bedroom was more than enough to compensate for the pain. The stranger landed on his ass in the bedroom. His gun was still in his hand and Jane dropped both feet back on the ground and ran towards him, kicking the weapon out of his hand before pressing against his right wrist with her shoe. Bending, she laced her fingers underneath the fabric of his black mask, ready to pull the cloth up so she could see his face when his free hand snatched her wrist.

He hurled her over his body and onto his side. Rolling on top of her, he pinned her to the ground with his body weight and grabbed her shoulder. Jane hissed in pain when his nails dug into it, the long sleeve of her t-shirt not doing much to soften the grip he had on her. His knee worked in between their bodies and pushed against her stomach roughly as he held her down with his hands on her arms.

"You know, you've caused me a lot of problems today." He quipped as if she was supposed to take pity on him.

"Sorry I couldn't cause you more. I'd hate for you to have an easy time trying to kill me, you know?" Jane replied through clenched teeth. She lifted up on her shoulders to see how far she could get them up. The man pushed down a bit harder and she struggled to hold back a snarl.

"You have some people who really want you dead. Kind of makes me curious as to what you did to piss them off so much." He tilted his head to the side slightly, looking down at her with narrowed eyes as if he was trying to sum her up. "You don't look very intimidating."

Jane rolled her eyes at his casual tone. "So Maroni sent you, huh? You're not exactly the first and let me tell you: I've gotten away from the other guy twice. You don't exactly have luck on your side."

"Well someone's kind of a bitch despite the situation they're in. Honestly, I'd be a bit more friendly if I was facing someone that was going to kill me. Who knows? Maybe I'd choose a quicker, easier death. Right now I'm leaning towards something painful and long."

"The only thing painful here is your personality." Jane snapped back. Noticing that he was finally distracted, she rocked her hips up and wrapped her legs around his neck, pulling him down to the ground with her body weight. Once he was on the ground, she squeezed her calves around him to hold him in place as his knee dug painfully into her stomach. She slipped upwards and over it, landing on his stomach. Her hands formed tight fists as she jerked her arms out of his grasp, flinging them back before yanking them back to hold onto his wrists.

Jane slammed them on the floor on either side of the man's head. Her body was now sitting completely on him, all of her weight holding him down as she threatened his life with another squeeze of her ankles at his neck. "Now it's your turn to be friendly," she smirked down at him. Flipping her hair out of her eyes, she rested her knees against the inside crook of her elbow before slipping them out so that they now sat on either side of his body. Her right foot found itself rising up and behind her to press against the crotch of his pants, and with a quirk of an eyebrow she tried to convey that she would crush his manhood if need be. "What? No more smug words?"

Sitting on top of this guy, Jane was completely blindsided the fact that the two of them were not alone in the apartment.

Which was why she didn't anticipate the hand that wrapped itself around her neck.

Jane was hauled off of the man and thrown into the nearest wall. She collapsed against it, sliding down onto the floor as her head rebounded off of it. Groaning, she landed in a pile, her eyes closing as she tried to fight the darkness that was beginning to close in around her. Wh-What the fuck? Who else was in here? Struggling, she opened her eyes just enough to see Alex's unmistakable grip wrap around her neck once more. He pulled her up from the ground, pushing against the wall so that her breath was cut off completely as her feet left the ground.

She began kicking, her legs flailing around as she tried to make contact with his. Her eyes were wide open now, her hands on his that was around her neck as she attempted to pry him away from her. His smile sent a chill down her spine and she began to panic. No. No. No. No. _No_! How did he get in here? how did the two of them manage to get her into this position? What was going on?

"Jane." Alex squeezed his hand and Jane struggled even harder against him, her head becoming light as she clawed at him. He didn't even flinch, his eyes unwavering as they drank in her suffering before his eyes. "We meet again. This time, without your little friends to save you."

His laugh was the last thing she heard before her vision blacked completely.

* * *

"Where is she though?" Tanya said in a frustrating tone as she continued to pace the living room, her black jacket long since discarded. For the tenth time in the past five minutes, she shot a glance at the clock hanging on the wall by the bookshelves. "She should have been here an hour ago!"

"Relax," Floyd waved her away, "she's probably just shagging around with that Bruce guy. They've been so cutesy all _day_." Even though he sounded non-chalant about the situation, when Sam looked over at him, she could tell that his face was tightening. Even he was getting a little nervous about Jane's whereabouts.

On the couch beside him, Will hung up the phone and shook his head. "She's still not answering. I think we should go and look for her."

"And look for her where?" Jim said, coming in from his bedroom. "I'm telling you, she abandoned us. Probably chickened out and decided that this whole thing was stupid to go through with. Honestly, what did any of you expect? She betrayed Falcone for crying out loud; did you really expect her loyalty?"

"Where have _you_ been?" Tanya demanded, her arms crossed as she shot him an angry look. "We could have already left by now if you hadn't been lost, too."

"Oh please, I've been in my room this entire time. I'm not the one that turns people into the police as quickly as possible here. I'm telling you, Jane probably set us up in a trap at the Maroni place. Maybe it's better that we didn't go."

"No," Floyd shook his head. "I know I haven't known Jane the longest or anything, but from talking to her just a little, even I could see that this Rebecca chick was important to her. Jane wouldn't just leave someone like that in Joker's and Alex's hands like this."

"Maybe she'll come any moment. Will, try her cell phone again. Maybe she'll pick up this time," Sam piped in helpfully. She was curled up where she normally sat, the chair by the book case. It was where she had been sitting for the past hour and half. One hour of which had been spent watching Tanya wondering out loud where Jane could possibly be and Will trying to calm her down. Floyd had sort of been quiet, an odd enough thing for the usually loud man.

Everyone, from what Sam could tell, was really getting anxious. Jane had never been late before when they had met up. In fact, she usually had been early. Floyd had tried to wipe off the fact that she wasn't here yet due to her boyfriend, Bruce Wayne, but even Sam could see that he didn't believe that himself. No, this was something more than a boyfriend issue. Jane wouldn't have ditched them like this without letting them know what was going on. Even if she had decided to go into Maroni's alone, she should have been back by now. Or at least answering her phone.

Everyone but Jim was nervous about it. Then again, Jim didn't exactly have a fondness for their new friend. Sam didn't quite understand why her brother didn't like the girl after what she had done for them, but she wasn't going to say anything. Eventually, he would come around and be more understanding. She hoped.

"I've tried almost a hundred times already," Will said and threw his cell phone onto the coffee table. "I'm telling you – she's not answering."

"I shouldn't have let her come over alone," Floyd shook his head and rubbed his hair, sighing as he closed his eyes. "But she said she had a few errands to run over at the old apartment and that she wouldn't be long…" He trailed off.

"Just…Something doesn't feel right about this." Tanya plopped down in a chair.

That was when Floyd shot up, fists formed at his side. "I think I know what might have happened. We need to get to that apartment. _Now_."


	13. Chapter 13

Jane knew before she even opened her eyes that she was not in the right place.

The ground was too hard, too cold and too rough underneath her to be anything that was in one of Bruce's penthouses. It was grainy, hurting and digging into her skin even though she tried to remain as still as possible, eyes still closed and mind swamped in the darkness as she tried to gain control over her other senses first. The air was wrong too. Cold, unforgiving and sharp, chilled her to her core and her arms trembled a little. Her teeth would too if she had not been clenching her jaw so tightly.

Her head hurt more than anything; it pounded, throbbing painfully. Had she gotten hit? She could not really remember. All that she could recall was being with Bruce at his penthouse. That…that was it. She had already determined that she was not on the floor of any room in Bruce's home – so she had not fallen asleep on the gym floor. Bruce would not have allowed her to do that anyway. So if she as not there…where was she?

Jane strained her ears, knowing that she would probably be able to hear better if she focused on sounds alone. What she wanted to do was open her eyes and see what she was in, but her tactical mind prevailed and she held back that instinct. Was she alone? That was a major question that needed to be answered before anything.

"I know you're awake," that unmistakable voice said with a hint of amusement. She froze instantly, her hands forming into tight fists at her sides when she realized that no, she was not alone; and more importantly, Alex was here. Watching her. "I could always see right through you."

She opened her eyes slowly, as if seeing him was going to make this whole situation all the more real. The ceiling above her was obscure in the darkness and she did not immediately notice any light from windows. A cell. Trapped in a damn cell with him. It was the image of nightmares – the very thing that she had been terrified of ever since she convinced Falcone to chase him out of Gotham. She shivered again, real fear overtaking her now that she realized Alex had brought her here to extract the justice he sought.

Hearing him move, she tensed again, but did not thrash about wildly. She needed to conserve her strength. Somehow, she had to pour everything she had into fighting him back once he came for her. Jane might very well die in this cell of a room but they both knew that he was going to have to kill her with her fighting him every inch of the way. She was not going to shy away from him, not now. She probably knew him better than anyone else in Gotham, and trying to cower away would only make him disgusted. It would only rouse his anger more.

She already bore more than her share of that.

But instead of him coming towards her like she expected, she heard him walk away from her. The sound of a creaking door echoed chillily through the room, and intrigued, she turned her head towards the sound. Alex's tall, broad body was illuminated against the light from the hallway and she closed her eyes against the blinding pain from her unprepared eyes. She waited another moment before she opened them again, this time ready for the sharpness of light into a dark room and almost shivered again.

He was looking at her from over his shoulder. One of his hands clutched the door, large hand squeezing tightly around the wood; a small smile graced his lips when he locked eyes with her. He could tell she was frightened, panicked, and scared. Why would she not be? She knew exactly what he could do. She knew what he was capable of. Jane tried to hide it but she could not, and saw his pleasure at her discomfort and terror written all over his face, just like her horror was on hers.

Alex said nothing though. She thought he was going to speak – tease her, ridicule her for finally grabbing her at the very moment she least expected it. But instead, he walked away, closing the door solidly behind him. Once more, she was covered in blackness; the light now gone from the room and she blinked, straining herself to make out the figure of the door frame. She waited for the click of the lock but did not hear it. Clearly, he was not worried about her escaping this place.

It was only then that she allowed herself to take in a deep, shaky breath, one that almost broke off into a slight sob now that she was alone. Of all of the places in the world, this was the last place she wanted to be. Jane would pick a cell with Crane, a room with Tyrone, a moment with Falcone: anything but being in this place alone with Alex somewhere nearby. She was scared, more than scared. Alex leaving her like this did not appease her at all. Despite him leaving her alone for the time being she knew it was all part of his ploy. This was not to offer her peace, but merely a chance to drive her crazy. Jane was not sure if she would rather him be in the room where she could see him and know what he was doing or be out there out of her eyesight.

Especially with Rebecca undoubtedly still around. Rebecca. Surely she was somewhere near – somewhere close by. Alex said he had her at Bruce's gala, right? Jane shivered on the concrete floor she was lying on. Rebecca's fate would be no better than hers, no doubt. Now with Alex being as sick as he was.

Jane slowly worked her arms, pressing her hands flat against the concrete and pushing herself up into a sitting position. Nausea plagued her, and she closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose as she waited for the feeling to pass. Her head throbbed even more and she swallowed. Alex must have hit her hard or something in order to bring her here. She felt like absolute hell.

She still had her clothes. Her button-down shirt was gone, but her white tank top was still mostly in tact though a little dirty from lying on the floor. Jane's black jeans were also still on but her combat boots were not. All that covered her feet was a pair of socks. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she scooted back until she hit the wall and rested her head against it, sighing again as she wrapped her longs arms around her knees, hugging them up to her.

The walls were certainly colder than the floor. Trying to keep her teeth from chattering, she leaned her shoulders forward and rested her head against her kneecaps instead. Anger surged through her – but surprisingly not at Alex, but at herself. Even though she knew Alex was going to come after her eventually, she let herself be taken by surprise – an action that never should have happened in the first place. If she would have just listened and not been so cocky none of this would have…

Jane grit her teeth so hard that her jaw hurt and she picked up her head only to push her hands through her hair. She was just so… fucking pissed off that he managed to get to her again when she had her guard down. The distraction of the masked attacker had taken all of her focus off of checking her surrounds. She didn't look for a second and this was where she was. Locked up, laying on the floor and freezing with Alex somewhere out that door. She should have known – should have expected it. A random attacker in Bruce's old apartment?

Bruce. What would he think? He would not expect her to be caught up by Alex so randomly, would he? She had not told him that she was going back to the apartment to pick up a few things before meeting the others at Tanya's place; and since she had left his with Floyd, he would probably suspect that he was with her the entire time. Oh fuck. Bruce would probably think Floyd had something to do with her sudden disappearance. He clearly did not trust the guy much, and rightfully so, and this opportunity was all he needed to further distrust her new pal, so to speak. He would probably kill him.

But Floyd was probably the only person who could link Alex and the penthouse together. The others did not really know all that much about her past with him, and while Floyd did not know much, he at least knew what Alex looked like. Not only had Alex threatened him shortly after Floyd had shot up the apartment, but he had also been there – he had shot Alex – when they were at the gala. He would possibly be able to figure out that somehow Alex was behind all of this. Maybe. Especially after seeing how much Alex hated her.

Bruce knew that Alex was after her but he hadn't seen him. Not even at the warehouse that night so many months ago or at the gala. Bruce knew that Alex despised her and had threatened her very life, but he didn't know what he looked like. He might be able to figure it out somehow, but that would take days, and she didn't know exactly how much time she had. So basically, her only hope for getting broken out of this place was Alex, and if Bruce scared him away then that was gone.

She should have just let him come along. If Jane had not been so insistent on visiting the old apartment by herself then none of this would have happened. Floyd would have been able to see Alex and this whole thing would be over. For all she knew, they would have managed to incapacitate Alex and turned him over to the police. Or…she would have let Floyd make a killing shot in order to stop him for once and for all. But she had been insistent and he hadn't been there. Jane was here and Floyd was there and that was all that counted for right now. She needed to be focusing on getting out of here somehow and not thinking over on what-ifs. That would serve her no purpose here, not now.

What she needed to be thinking on was how to get out. Because sooner or later, Alex was going to come back and she damn sure wasn't ready for the pain he would bring with him.

* * *

Floyd burst into the room with wide eyes, his heart racing as he took in the scene that was laid out in front of him. Not too long ago, he had shot the place to hell in hopes of killing Jane all for a bit of loose change. Now, standing and seeing the curtains that covered the windows that had yet to be re-paned, he could not help but feel some sickness in his stomach over his actions. It had not been that long really, a few days and a couple of hours, but in that short spans of time he could not help but think about how boring his life would be if he had killed Jane that day.

Tanya bumped into him on her way in, one of her hands reaching up to brace herself against his shoulder so that she would not fall down. Her long, thick dark hair brushed against his cheek as she righted herself and looked around the room, her silence an indicator of her shock at the destroyed, fancy penthouse that remained in front of her.

Instead of standing there longer, Floyd took off for where he knew the bedroom was. The dark of the night bled into the apartment and he did have some trouble orienting himself. All of the furniture was gone but the floor was slick with rain dew that had made its way in through the missing window. He slipped a few times, his hand snapping out to steady against the wall but he continued on to the door where he knew had been Jane's and Bruce's bedroom.

If asked to explain why he wanted to help Jane, he would not be able to explain it himself. Though truthfully, he always loved the feeling of a good chase and mystery. The absence of a particular presence was a mystery indeed – and he knew exactly who had taken her. Who else could it have been? He saw the ex-boyfriend at Bruce Wayne's gala that night. The man had been ravenous, practically shaking with anger when he was around the young woman.

Floyd had also seen the look of terror on Jane's face. He knew that somehow, someway, those two had a history and it was certainly not a pleasant one. The man had had murder on his face – she had the look of a rabbit caught in a trap. Floyd did not think that the woman who had managed to take out several of the Joker's goons in a _dress_ would ever be so panicked, but she had been, and that look had stuck with him.

It was one of the main reasons why he chose to stick around. She was a puzzle, broken and pieced back together with cheap glue that was threatening to wither away at any moment. Something had happened to her… or she had done something. Floyd wanted to know what, exactly, that had been.

Plus, work like his was hard to find in Gotham and he liked the feeling of a gun in his hands simply too much to pass by an opportunity like this one.

He finally came upon the room and ran in. The door was open, the bed frame one of the few pieces of remaining remnants of the bedroom. He stopped completely, turning around in a circle to look around him before he stopped, eyes fixated on the closet. Narrowing his eyes, Floyd took a small step forward, squinting as he concentrated on a sole, single crack that ran across the mirror that was attached to the door. It was an odd place for such a crack, about elbow length high…

There had been a fight here.

Floyd went forward with renewed vigor, quickly tuning on the light as he stepped inside of the closet. Eyes immediately spotting the opened suitcase on the floor, he looked up and around for more evidence and finally, he saw it. A single gunshot hole a little more than eye-level high. He almost panicked at the sight but calmed down once he noticed that there was no blood in the room. There was still the possibility that she had not gotten hurt. Not here, at least.

"What is it –" Tanya asked, breaking the question off into a gasp once she noticed the bullet hole.

"Someone took her. They did not want to kill her, or else someone's bodies or blood would be here now." Floyd turned to face the girl, her eyes still locked on the dark hole just behind his head. "I know who did it but I don't know where he is."

Tanya's eyes went back to his. "Who?"

"I'm not sure what his name is, but he's certainly not her friend. Bruce might know. Surely she would have told him a name, at least." Floyd started walking out of the closet, Tanya swiveling to follow after him as Samantha and Will finally came into the room.

"Who's Bruce? Bruce _Wayne_? Why would he know anything about this?"

"They've been together for a while now. If there is anyone around who she would have told her secrets to, it would have been him. And this guy that took her? He's a big secret."

"I was wondering why we were in Bruce Wayne's apartment." Will commented, his eyes roving around the sparse bedroom just like Floyd's had been earlier. "But why would a guy like him listen to us? He probably would think we're crazy. Jane's tough; and he probably doesn't know about her, you know, prior life."

"Oh he knows. He has to," Floyd assured him with a small nod, "she wouldn't have kept that from him. Besides, I think he would have noticed that she kept slipping out of his bed at night to go meet you guys. But even if he doesn't know the name of this guy, he still deserves to know that she's missing. Hopefully he won't go to the police just yet – we have a better chance of getting to this guy our own way without them getting involved."

"Jane said something once about a girl she was trying to find. I think someone took her away or something - kidnapped her. Jane would sometimes get frantic about not finding her." Samantha brushed her hair out of her face, sighing as she looked out the window sadly.

"She was screaming a girl's name when that guy and Joker busted Bruce's gala the other night. Rachel? Or Rebecca? Something like that. She was pretty shaken up about it later on when Bruce finally talked to her."

"So are these two connected somehow? Would the same guy take both of these women? For what, exactly?"

"Taking the girl clearly upset Jane more than we probably know at the moment. That act was probably to break her a little bit, drive her crazy until he finally came for her, though I'm not sure why he waited so long. Maybe once we get the guy's name and can figure out who he is things this whole mess will start making sense. Maybe."

"I don't like this," Samantha shook her head. "I don't like this at all. I feel that something bad is going to happen."

"Of course something bad is going to happen," Floyd replied incredously. "But I don't think she's dead – not yet at least. There's still some hope that we can get her out of there before he kills her."

Will just looked at him. "Why do you say that? If this guy is mad enough to come after her like this and plot out a way to driver her crazy before killing her, what's to stop him from ending her life right now?"

"He's waited this long for a reason. He's thought this all out and has planned on something special before. I've met this guy and let me tell you, he's insane. There's something about him that's not right. He's _mad_ with the idea of taking some sort of sick revenge out on her. No, she's not dead yet, but she's going to wish that she was very soon."

* * *

Jane was woken up with a rude and hard kick to the stomach.

She spasmed inwards, curling in on her side as her eyes flew open and breath rushed from her body. Pain bursting in her lower abdomen, she turned and laid on her stomach, rising up to her knees as she coughed and wheezed and squeezed her eyes closed to keep the tears from leaking through. What a nice way to wake up.

"Get up," Alex said in his cold voice, devoid of any emotion that would have helped her think about what he might have been feeling at the moment. Maybe if she could sense that, she would be able to figure out just what he was going to do to her. Jane coughed out again, bile rising up to her throat and making her tears hot and cheeks flush. Fists forming on the ground, she choked it back down, not willing to show any weakness right now in front of him. That would be for later. It would _have_ to be for later. Not now, not when she needed to seem strong in front of him. Alex wouldn't break her. Not yet. He couldn't. She wouldn't let him do that so easily.

Jane threw her head back, swallowing one last time. She opened her eyes, staring back at Alex with as much hate and disgust as she could manage. Which, at the moment while she was practically crawling on the floor with tears stinging her eyes and vomit in her throat, was quite a lot. Glaring at him every inch of the way, she summoned the strength to put her feet up underneath her, shuffling slowly and rather pathetically until she was able to rise up into a standing position in front of him. Rolling her shoulders back, she lifted her chin up and tossed her shabby and dirty hair back.

Alex responded the gesture with a solid hook to her jaw. Jane was thrown back down to the ground and her hip collided _hard_ on the concrete floor. Biting her lip to keep from crying out, her body slackened at the pain that now focused on her right hip instead. Frustrated, she slapped her hands on the ground and took a ragged breath in before sputtering it out. Her jaw throbbed angrily and she closed her eyes against the fresh wave of tears that came forth.

"I said _get up_." Alex said pointedly, nudging her over onto her back with his steel-toed boot. Her body shook from the cold and the pain, and she braced herself with her hands on the floor. Eyes still closed, she brought her legs away from him. So that was the way he was going to play. He was going to beat her into oblivion first. Break her down; make her writhe and scream and snap. Possibly the simplest, yet most effective way he could punish her.

Jane tried to throw up that mental wall to stop the pain from affecting her thoughts too much. There was going to be a lot more of this stuff and she had to fight back against it. She had to stay strong. Somehow, she had to bide herself some time so that hopefully, Floyd and the others and Bruce would be able to find her. All she needed was _time_. To gain that, she had to play Alex's little game with as much resistance to the pain as possible.

She stood again, noticeably more slowly than before. She didn't dare stare at him as vehemently as before, and instead settled on a blank stare _through_ him rather than _at_ him. Maybe she hadn't been so violent in her eyes as before. She needed to be as unresponsive as possible so that she didn't earn all of that anger again. Defiance, while helpful in some situations, wasn't going to help her here if she doled it out so liberally.

Alex glared down at her, his arms now crossed over his denim button-down. He had always been fond of those… _no_. Her eyes widened and she staggered back a step, her bare feet slipping somehow on the concrete as she struggled to regain her balance. No. No. _No._ He couldn't – he couldn't be wearing that same shirt that he had all those years ago. But it was there. The tear that she had made on the left sleeve, the blood stains all around it, the hole that the hammer formed when he held it incorrectly.

He smiled. "So you remember."

"How could I forget?" She whispered, not able to tear her eyes away from _that shirt_. He knew that she wouldn't have forgotten. Neither of them had, even after eight years that night was still as clear to her as yesterday, even clearer given the circumstances.

"You seem to have forgotten a lot of things."

Jane's eyes flickered up to his and she held his gaze rather unsteadily, wanting nothing more than to break away but finding that she couldn't. "Not everything," she whispered, "never, everything."

Alex stared at her even harder. It was as if he was trying to break through her, read her mind or something to see whether she was lying or not. There were so many things left unsaid between them. Things that should have been out in the open all those years ago – not now. Jane wanted nothing more than to forget what had transpired between them but her Alex was, an undoubting reminder of her heinous past, a past that she would rather leave behind. Especially now with her new life with Bruce in the near distance. Why couldn't things stay where they should be?

"Are you sure?" He asked and she nodded her head slowly. He probably would never believe her. Not after… not after everything. Jane knew that he wasn't the only to blame, that she was no more innocent than he. Alex was still a monster, no doubt. But she was nearly just as horrible.

Breaking his stare, she felt her eyes drift back down to the loud bloodspots on his denim shirt before she tore her eyes away from them, refusing to look at that horrible stain. Alex's hand jerked out, grasping her throat before she even had time to blink. Squeezing, his fingers curled around the back of her jaw and he tilted it so that she had to look at him. Jane's hands went to his, her nails digging into his skin in an attempt to get him off of her as he lifted her in the air with an impressive amount of strength. Forearms bulging, he snarled at her.

"_Look_ at it. Revel in all of the pain and misery that you've caused. The pain that you've blamed me for. It belongs to you." Alex's eyes flashed with fury and he threw her down on the floor. Jane cried out as her head hit the ground just as her shoulders did, and she instantly rolled away from him. Dizzy and disoriented, she closed her eyes as she gasped for breath. "You can't forget the past when it's staring you in the face, can you?"

He kicked her in the side. Jane sucked in a breath.

He kicked her again.

And again.

And again.

"_Stop_," Jane pled. One of her ribs was broken. Her face was bleeding. "Please, stop."

Alex reached down, hauling her up by her hair as she whimpered, sobbing and dripping with blood running down her nose and tears down her face. "That's what he said that night, isn't it? He asked for you to stop, but you didn't. You didn't stop, Jane." He smiled as she closed her eyes away from the menacing look in his eyes, recognizing all too well that crazed look that was forming in them. "You didn't stop. Why should I?"

"I –" She managed to get off before he dropped her back down to the floor. "I wasn't alone! You – You were with me then. Where is your punishment?" Jane screamed at him as she scrambled away, her back hitting the wall as her chest heaved. "_Where is yours?"_

He only smiled at her. Stepping closer, Jane curled her legs together and threw her hands up over her face. He didn't hit her though, or even kick her. She heard him bend down, rocking back on his heels and felt his eyes on her face. Her breath came out in harsh spurts, her whole body aching and hurting more than she thought possible. Jane even shook as he reached a hand out to brush her hair out of her face. Recoiling, she slapped his hand away and tried to scoot back further away from him even though she was already pressed against the wall.

"Oh Jane," he whispered blandly, "I've had my punishment. You're the one who has been living the easy life all these eight years. Now it's time for you to get your reckoning. It's your turn."

She let out a sob, her head falling against her knees. Alex was breaking her already. That damned shirt… everything was happening too fast, too abruptly for her to even get a grasp on what was going on. She felt a tiny prick on her arm but barely noticed it against the pain that racked the rest of her body. Jane pulled her arms in nonetheless, tucking them in between her knees and her chest so that he couldn't touch her again. Not that she could stop him if she wanted to. She never had been able to stop him.

He stood and she just barely heard the sound of him walking away over her cries. The door slammed and once more she was covered in darkness. Except this time, she was happy for it.

* * *

For some unknown reason, Floyd just knew that now was the time for him to take charge. The past few days of allying himself with Jane had given him the best thrill he ever had, much more so than any of his other jobs. Being a hit man, he thought that his life was pretty damn exciting as it was. But now? Chasing after some chick he had met only a few days ago who had been kidnapped by some douche who tried to kill him? Fucking exhilarating.

He thought on this as he rapped his knuckles hard against the wood door leading to the Wayne penthouse. The one that he had settled in rather comfortably once Jane vouched for him. Not that Bruce would do anything about his precious little girlfriend, but Floyd wasn't an idiot. He knew the two cared about each other. Wayne had a right to know that his girl was missing. And who knows? Maybe the man could use some of that money and power he had to get the ball rolling. Especially the money.

Floyd decided to see the man on his own, having sent the others to the apartment to regroup and figure out how to steal the files from Maroni's place. He wouldn't be able to spend too much time here. But like he told Tanya, Bruce might also know a thing or two about this random guy that had such a fondness for Jane that they didn't know about. They _were_ a thing after all. Surely Jane's psychotic exes came up at least once.

No one came to open the door. Floyd lifted his hand to knock again, thought better of it, and instead opened the door. The knob twisted easily and he went through, slamming it shut to signal his entrance into the seemingly empty. Dude better not be lying around naked or something. Swearing under his breath, Floyd quickly walked down the foyer and towards the entertainment room, figuring that if he lived here that was where he would be.

"Bruce!" He called out, voice echoing. "Bruce! It's about Jane. She's in a bit of trouble and I need your help."

"Sir?" Floyd stopped and turned to see the old butler giving him a curious look. "Master Wayne is unavailable at the time. But…what was that you said about Jane?"

"Where is Bruce?"

The butler fumbled for a bit. "He – He's out driving the new car, of course." He stepped forward, a concerned expression appearing on his face. "Jane, though, what did you say about her? I can let Master Wayne know immediately."

"Someone took her when she went to the old apartment. They were waiting for her. I think she was ambushed." Floyd said, already turning and heading towards the door. If Bruce wasn't here, then fuck it. He wasn't going to wait around for some rich pretty boy while the girl was probably getting tortured. "Tell Bruce that we're going to find her. He shouldn't interfere without letting us know first."

"_Us_?"

"Jane's friends and I. Apparently we're the only ones who care about her well being. He is, after all, _driving his new car._"

* * *

When Jane was younger, she used to have nightmares. Normal, child-like things of monsters and skeletons, the occasional clown.

Never would she have thought that her real nightmare would be a man.

Her eyes opened but she couldn't see anything. Disoriented, she rolled over onto her stomach and lifted herself onto her hands and knees, side throbbing, before finally standing. She swayed on her feet. Stepping, Jane put a hand against the wall to steady herself a bit as she staggered forward. The room was dark, as it had been ever since she was dumped in it, but something was…different. Off, somehow. She was sure she was alone so it wasn't that. But…something was wrong.

A piercing pain flashed through her mind as if someone had unexpectedly turned on the lights. She squeezed her eyes closed against it but the pain remained. Falling against the wall, she lowered herself down onto her knees and put her hands against her head, squeezing and gritting her teeth. Where was that _pain_ coming from? Tears welled up in her eyes and squeezed past her clenched lids, rolling down her cheeks and onto her lips. She clamped her jaw tightly to hold in the scream.

She crumpled onto the floor pathetically. What was wrong with her? Clenching her jaw even tighter against the pain, she forced herself onto her knees, using all of her strength to put her hands up underneath her. She failed though and fell back down on the floor.

"No point in getting up if you're just going to give _up_," a child-like, girlish voice teased from the darkness, startling Jane enough that she jumped. Groaning, Jane turned onto her side and tried to open her eyes, but the pain was still too sharp for her to even _focus_. Who did the voice belong to? Was this one of Alex's sick ideas?

"I'm not…" Jane said through gritted teeth, forcing the words out with as much vehemence as she could muster up, "giving up."

"What'ya call lying on the floor then, huh? The door's open, you know. I walked right in here and you could walk right back out if you wanted." The woman – girl – whatever she was giggled. "But I wouldn't really recommend it. You're man friend wouldn't like that so much. He's been waiting a long time to get his hands on you."

Jane felt tiny hands scoop up her chin, her head being forced to tilt back by the woman. Eyes still closed, she didn't see the face that belonged to the voice. Quickly, the touch disappeared, and Jane's head fell back down onto the floor and she moaned at the pain that still burst inside of her head.

"I don't see why. You're not that pretty. What's the matter with you anyway? You're acting like Becksie after Eddie gave her that medicine." The girl's voice grated her nerves, making her pain in the head even more amplified when she started humming a tune. Jane was glad that she wasn't alone in the damn place with Alex, but _fuck_, wouldn't this girl give her some peace? Or some Tylenol? "Of course, Becksie is all fine now. Eddie boy took her off the meds a few days ago."

The name dawned something inside her head, a thought that pushed itself past her pain and made her open her eyes at last. Jane immediately recognized the girl from the penthouse that night. The one with the pigtails and the fucked up makeup. An enemy. Someone working with Joker and Alex. Why was she in _here_ with _her?_ But maybe she could help her somehow…let her know if Rebecca was safe in this building or not. Becksie? Could that be a nickname for Rebecca? It was certainly more than possible, given the fact that the girl had said Eddie's name.

The girl noticed Jane's sudden awareness and grinned. "So you know doc, don't ya? He's not a nice guy. But he's better than Alex, I guess. Sucks for you."

Disregarding the comment, Jane tried to block out the pain and focus on finding out answers. That was what she needed most right now. "Eddie. He's _here_?"

"Yeah. Who isn't here? You're here, I'm here, Mister J's here, Alex's here, Becksie's here. Everyone's here!"

"Becksie – is she… is she _close_ with Eddie? Are they good friends?"

"Doc likes to spend time with Becksie." The girl's grin deepened and Jane resisted the urge to gag. "I think he _likes_ her likes her, if you know what I'm sayin'."

"Becksie..do you know her real name?"

She crinkled her nose. "It's something boring. Becca? No. Rachel? Nah. Something like that though. She's real shy. And pretty. A lot prettier than you."

"Is Becksie," she grunted as she had to close her eyes again, the pain coming back in a stronger force than before. "Is Becksie okay? Is she hurt, sick?"

"Doc takes good care of her. Alex doesn't like for any of us to get close to her, especially Mister J. Not that Alex should be able to do that since Mister J's the boss but he does it anyway. I see her a lot though. She used to be so sleepy all the time but now she's better. She cries a lot. I don't like sad people."

"But she's okay though. And she's here in this building, right?"

"Yep." The girl looked down at Jane and cocked her head to the side, curious. "Why do you care? It's not as if you're going to get a chance to see her or anything. Not unless Alex wants you to before he kills you."

A strong chill ran up her spine and Jane bit the inside of her teeth. She knew Alex was going to kill her unless the others got her out somehow in time. It was a longshot, but she still hoped. It was all she had to go on right now and she'd be damned if she let this get to her head and break her down any faster than Alex already was. She cleared her throat. "I know but I just…I just wanted to know who else was in the house."

Jane was going to do everything in her power to get Rebecca out of here. Even if she died, Rebecca wouldn't be locked away any more than she already had been.

She just had to figure out how she was going to get them both out alive.

* * *

"So we know that this guy is working for and with Joker. So if we find him, we find Joker. Which means that this…well," Floyd shook his head, "this isn't going to be the easiest thing in the world."

"Who ever said it was going to be anyway?" Tanya said, flipping open the folder that Will had somehow stolen from Maroni's office in the Narrows. Now that the majority of the crime family was behind bars, it was relatively easy to go in and take them even though he and Floyd did have to tear apart the file cabinets in order to get into them in the first place. She took out the mugshot gym clipped to the back and slid it across the table to Floyd. "That him?"

Floyd took one look at the man and shook his head. "No. This guy is going to be younger looking. He's about…thirty something now so look for photographs of blondes between the ages of twenty and thirty-five. That should help some."

"You sure he didn't have any tattoos around the face or neck?" Samantha asked as she closed her own folder and went to the next one.

"No. Nothing like that."

"You're certainly not making this very easy," Tanya mumbled, moving on to another and another. "This one?" She flipped he folder around so that Floyd could see it and he shook his head. "Great. Did you guys seriously have to grab all of the folders?"

"We didn't know what his name was and _certainly_ didn't want to hang around there any longer than we had to. Who knows when someone would come bursting in? If you don't like it, next time, _you_ can go on the run and we'll sit here and relax." Will said defensively.

"Guys, let's just focus on trying to find this guy all right? We don't have that much time to spare." Samantha urged. Pausing on a particular photo, she stared at it for a few seconds before turning it to Floyd. "This him?"

Floyd looked at the photograph before reaching forward and taking it, holding it closer to his face. "Yeah, this is him. It's definitely him."

"What's his name? What does the file say?" Tanya asked, finally relieved that she didn't have to look at any more pictures of mob men.

Samantha flicked through a few pages, scanning each one. "Name's Alex Donnelly. Looks like he was one of the top guys when Falcone was in power a few years ago. Until… wait." She paused and re-read over a section. "Guys, this says that Falcone kicked him out because of Jane. That would explain why he wants to kill her."

"Does it say why, exactly? I knew something must have happened between them but haven't been able to figure out what it was." Floyd stood form his chair, coming over to stand behind Samantha, peering over her shoulder.

"I think – I think it was because of _this_," she pointed to a particular paragraph. "Jane made a complaint that Alex forced her to torture and kill the man who killed her father, as well as… murder a young boy for sport because it helped with training purposes. Oh god."

"What?"

"Jane also turned over information that showed Alex was planning on killing Falcone in order to take over the family. Guys, she _ratted him out_."

"No wonder he's pissed," Will shook his head. "He was just about to rule over all of Gotham before she said something. Do you have any idea how powerful that guy would have been?"

"But what does it say about addresses – known places where he might have stayed a lot of something. Did Maroni include anything new in those reports?" Tanya said impatiently. In her opinion, the stuff in the past was important but not nearly as much as figuring out where he was.

Samantha flipped furiously though the rest of the pages and shook her head, sighing. "No. Nothing like that. Besides, if he's working with Joker, wouldn't those two be together somewhere else?"

"Maybe. But it wouldn't hurt to try known places first." Tanya frowned. "If we had any, of course."

"What about Jane? We could take a look at her file, find her old apartment, and see if there's anything that could help us out there." Will started rummaging through more files, scanning the names at the top for Jane's.

"And how is that supposed to help us out any?" Tanya asked.

"If Alex came back to get Jane, surely he would have spied on her apartment or something. I mean, that would be what I would do. It'd be the easiest way to see how she had been doing since he left. It's a start. Especially since Alex is a dead end right now."

Floyd nodded. "Good thinking. Maybe Alex broke in and left something behind. Or maybe she kept _something_ there that might help us figure out who else Alex might be working with." He pushed away from the chair and went back to where he was earlier, hands digging through the stack like Will's were. "Found it," he said and pulled out a rather thin folder. "Odd. This one doesn't have a last name."

"Just Jane?" Tanya asked, "does she even have a last name?"

"I don't know," Floyd shrugged and flipped open the file. "But this is her. Picture and everything. Falcone and Maroni certainly didn't keep much on her though. She's got some murders listed on here – most known gang bangers and rival gang members. Wait, _this _is pretty interesting. Jane was the one who shot that Chill guy."

"The guy who killed the Waynes? _Bruce Wayne's_ parents?"

"Yeah. And she's like, dating him now. She must have been pretty highly ranked in the family to get that on her sheet. Falcone wouldn't have let just anyone take Chill down."

"I remember everyone saying that she had Falcone wrapped around her finger. But if she had proven to be super loyal to him by turning Alex in, I can see why." Will said. "Does it say anything about Alex?"

"Looks like Carmine brought her in after her father died – _wait_. Wait a minute, I know that name. Her dad's name isn't listed but it says that she bought into the family by blood – the blood of Jorge Vasquez from the Vasquez family." He put the file back down on the table. "Jorge killed Hal Scone a few months before he was brutally tortured and killed. That means that her father was fucking Hal Scone. The fucking Hal Scone. That dude is a legend."

"Sharp-shooter Scone? _That's _Jane's father?" Tanya exclaimed. "Well that makes sense. No wonder why she knows how to shoot so damn well. Does it confirm that in the reports?"

"No. But who else could it be? Jane wouldn't have killed someone of that high caliber for a blood-in for nothing. She had to have some motive behind it. Must have been something that Alex put her up to. That kill was a notorious one a few years back. I remember hearing about it in New York City."

"Guys we have got to get to that apartment and find out what the hell is going on."

* * *

"The city is going crazy. Not that that's any different for Gotham. It's always been a little… _off_. Your friend Gordon is dead; thought you'd like to know." Jane felt herself being hauled up into a standing position, rough hands grasping her upper arms tightly and uncomfortably. Slowly, she opened her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet. Her head throbbed, her whole body ached from lying on the floor; but the pain was gone and that was all that mattered.

Except…everything appeared a little…different. Hazy. Like she was dreaming except she knew that she wasn't. She could feel the pain of Alex's touch on her skin, she could feel the coolness of the concrete beneath her feet. She couldn't possibly be dreaming – she was awake. She just… oh, no. Alex must had injected her with something earlier. Medicated her with a syringe or something. That must have been the cause of her splitting headache earlier. But what had he fucked her up with?

"You know, I never imagined that you would be the one that would end up dethroning Falcone. Too bad you didn't take advantage of it. You could have ruled over Gotham. But no, you went ahead and joined the _good side_. You became one of _them_." Alex pushed her forward, forcing her to stumble and walk towards the open door. "Such a disappointment."

"Someone had to stop him," Jane said defensively though she knew there would be no winning with Alex. He would still look down on her like she was the scum of the Earth no matter what she did. Not after everything she had done to him. "He was spiraling out of control. You weren't here those last few years."

Alex snatched her back to him, wrapping his hand around her throat as he pressed his back against her. "Because of _you_. Ever think that all of that might not have happened if I hadn't been kicked out of Gotham on threat of death? I had sway with Falcone just like you did. Even more so. I could have prevented all of that. All of it."

He pushed her forward again and she caught herself on the door frame, turning to give him a scowl over her shoulder. "You would have persuaded him to bring Crane's toxin sooner. Gotham would be destroyed if you had been here."

"That's what you think; but you don't know. And we'll never know, will we? Though I do have to admit, you made some pretty powerful allies in your Quest for Redemption. Most notably, the Batman. He's looking for you, you know? He's looking for the both of us. But guess what, Jane? He'll _never_ find us."


End file.
